Control
by 3rdbase101
Summary: It's good to have control, especially if you're the Head Gamemaker in charge of an entire Quarter Quell. Join the Head Gamemaker as he controls what happens to the tributes in the 725th Hunger Games, and enjoys every minute of it.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: What better way to celebrate a new keyboard than to start a new story? **

Terkast Nilgwis sat in his dark office, staring at the brightly blinking buttons while stroking his dark purple beard. The Hunger Games were soon, and it was the 725th since the first rebellion. Of course, the second never happened since it was quelled with the girl from Twelve and her 'lover.'

President Welch was in charge, and tomorrow he would go on with the box to decide what would happen in the Quarter Quell. Terkast looked at the thousands of crumpled slips of paper on his desk, and sighed deeply. There was nothing truly magnificent in here, and yet one of them would be chosen tomorrow.

Should he include the one that President Welch would go and choose the tributes? Or the one that states that the tributes for each district should be in a relationship? Neither sounded good to the Capitolite, and he picked up the only one that made sense to him. Of course, it was harsh enough that the tributes couldn't know until the start of the Games. Let _that_ sit well with the parents.

Terkast looked at the large monitor before his face, watching hovercrafts and Avoxes make the arena. They looked like ants rushing about, digging the river and placing sand and planting trees in exact places.

Everything was going well, he decided. His pure white fingers tapped daintily on the telephone while Terkast watched the workers build. He swiftly picked the small telephone up, and dialed a speed dial number.

"Hello?" An old, gruff voice sounded on the other end, making Terkast scowl. The man was the most powerful person in all of Panem, and yet he refused to get a voice replacement? To think about it, the man had done nothing to his body, unlike the rest of his country.

"I have a few ideas, President," Terkast managed into the phone, over his recent bout of disgust. He made sure to make his voice sound as smooth and melodic as possible.

"Hm? Alright then. Jus' send the box over, and I'll pick it tomorrow. You know they're gon' be thrown away after tomorrow, though, right?" President Welsh muttered, and Terkast could almost see him impatiently scratching his arm.

Terkast nodded, before realizing the President couldn't see him. "I know sir. It's so that no other Head Gamemakers can steal my ideas later, sir." President Welch gave his approval, and quickly hung up the phone.

With the call out of the way, the Head Gamemaker was left all alone with his thoughts again. There was truly only one that he liked out of the entire pile of about… 50.

Terkast took the gilded box from the table next to him, and started dutifully placing the piles of papers in it. Halfway there, he stopped. This was his last year as a Head Gamemaker. He promised himself that after 43 years as a Gamemaker, he would be done. That was, in 43 years, he would be done with the 725th Games, and be happy with their success.

Terkast wished to see his only good idea be the one that was used in the Games. A small smile played on his lips as he took up his pencil and began to write furiously. The President would need the box in a few short hours, and he had a lot of work to do.

Within the next thirty minutes, around 60 slips of paper were in the box. Terkast smiled, and called an Avox for it. The small, dainty girl with sad grey eyes and scraggly brown hair took the box tiredly, and shuffled up the steps.

Once the door closed, Terkast let his body shake in laughter. They would never find out what he had just done, since nobody looked at any of the submissions. The only one that would view any eyes other than his own would be his idea. And his idea was on every single one of those slips of paper!

He spun around in his wheelie-chair, laughing harder and harder. Yes, these games would be the best ever, for him and the Capitol's of course. "May the odds be ever in your favor!" Terkast yelled in a sing-songy voice, laughing manically.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: And here's the second installemnt, where we find out what the Quarter Quell idea is. Please enjoy!**

President Welch was high on a podium, stoically glancing over the crowd gathered, while occasionally waving. The Capitol citizens below stood impatiently, crying out and cheering. They hoped that the Quarter Quell idea would be picked soon, so they could go home and gossip about how well the Games would play out that year.

Terkast wrung his hands out, glancing at the screen in front of him. The images of working Avoxes were replaced with the President, the nine screens in front of him each sowing different angles.

With a nod to one of the cameramen, President Welch plunged his hand into the carved box, and ruffled the papers around. He saw the President grasp one, and pull it out with confidence.

"For this year's Quarter Quell, the twist shall be… oh," The leader of Panem muttered, looking at the top words that Terkast knew was at the top of the slip. _Do not read this aloud._

The door to the control room opened slowly, and the Avox walked in with a tray of cookies in her hand. Terkast waved her over with a warm smile on his face, trying to urge her faster so he could continue watching the President.

She looked surprised at the offer, and sat down next to the pure white man she had learned to serve for. "Have some if you wish," Terkast muttered, waving his hand at the plate. His eyes were already glued again to the large center screen, and he wasn't paying attention to the girl.

Maylin took a small, yellow, flower-shaped cookie, holding it in front of her eyes. She vaguely heard the President say, "To remind the Districts that the Capitol is in control, and that we can take away what we give to you, there will be no Cornucopia this year. There will also be a second part to this twist, but it won't be revealed until the start of the Games," but she was too interested in being offered the food than anything else.

Terkast smiled at the Avox's wonder at the small, common food. She was fun to watch. He flicked a tiny switch under his metal desk, and the monitors all flickered back onto the arena. Good. It was almost done.

The arena was a circle, quite similar to the 75th Hunger Games. It was also divided into twelve sections, although those sections differed in their entirety. Terkast was looking at the best arena ever created, or so he considered. It far outstripped anything he could've created his past years, especially that year it was a rainforest!

"So," Terkast said, turning his attention to the Avox. The weight of his secret was overburdening, and he felt that he had to tell _someone_. "What's your name?"

The girl looked appalled at being asked such a question, but her expression softened once she saw the piece of paper and pen that was thrust forward into her hands. The Avox wrote in big, childish letters 'Maylin.'

She knew how to write, Terkast thought, starting to doubt telling her. "Can you read or write, Maylin?" he asked sweetly. A sly smile crept up his face when she shook her head and mouthed 'no.'

"Good, because I am trusting you with something I wouldn't even trust the other Gamemakers with, do you understand?" She nodded wearily, her eyes growing cautious of the white man. "I've cheated. There was only one Quarter Quell idea in that box. Other things weren't so good, and I loved that idea."

Maylin's eyes grew wide, and her mouth dropped open. Terkast grimaced slightly at the sight of her scarred and tounge-less mouth, which made Maylin close it quickly. The Head Gamemaker apologized quickly, noticing Maylin's growing nervousness.

"I can trust you, dear," he said, the last word nearly getting stuck in his mouth, "because you've served me diligently all of these years, and you're responsible."

The Avox nodded quickly, and fidgeted her feet anxiously. All she wanted to do was get out of here, away from the man who had just put so many burdens on her. She couldn't tell his secret at all, which is why he told her. Not because he trusted her, but because he needed someone to tell, and she is the best candidate!

The telephone rang shrilly, making Maylin jump. "Goodbye for now. And remember, trust is a funny thing," Terkast announced as he ushered her to the door.

"Yes, Mr. President?" he answered, his tone of voice drastically changing.

"That's a good Quell idea," Welch concluded. "I almost read it all." He then let out one of his rare laughs, a scratchy noise that sounded harsh to Terkast's surgically refined ears.

"I'm glad you like it, sir," Terkast acknowledged, feeling so much better after telling his secret to Maylin. "Although I do have to say it wasn't my best. The rest of the ideas are gone?"

"Mhm," the President grunted. "I'd like t' see some of your better ideas if tha' one wasn't your best. Will the arena be done soon?"

"Yes, sir. The Avoxes are the only ones left now. They're just putting the sand and digging the trench for the sea in the last piece of the circle. We'll be done for the Reapings to happen in two weeks, sir."

The President grunted his approval once more, and then said goodbye, and hung up the phone. Terkast looked at the slices of the circle, comparing them to his diagrams on the right. Everything was perfect. There was the sea, there was the timber, and there was the field. It was truly perfect, with only a few days left to go.

The phone rang once more, making the Head Gamemaker sigh. That was one thing he never liked about his job, all the people calling him just because. To find out new information about mutts or the arena, just so they can gossip. Sometimes, the Capitol really bothered him.

"Why, hello Adelphi!" Terkast answered cheerfully, wishing the conversation with his sister would soon be over. He vaguely contemplated retiring and living in the Districts, before throwing the idea out of his mind. His skin and hair would be too conspicuous, and people would hate him for sending their children to their deaths. The Head Gamemaker sighed. He'd just have to deal with the phone calls and annoyances that'd come with being a Head Gamemaker. Until his retirement, of course.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: And here are the Reapings! Let's go to Terkast and Maylin for the details! Enjoy!**

The Reapings were today, and Terkast fiddled with the pages in front of him nervously. This was the last Reapings he was in charge of, ever, and the tributes had to be compatible. The 9 TVs were already on, four on one station and five on the other.  
Charmain Dinkleberg was talking animatedly about what the arena could be from the gossip and how he, Terkast, was doing on it. This station was available only to the Capitol, so they could say what could or could not happen. On five TV screens were the program the Districts were seeing. Mikla Bayone and Etta Seedra spoke quietly on previous games, and highlighted the events that the victors had done.

Maylin sat next to Terkast, for he wished to keep a good eye on her. Maylin quite liked the attention she was given, though. Other Avoxes waited on her, and she got rich and exotic foods she couldn't _dream_ of having before. Still, there was some guilt in taking this while the others couldn't, or the annoyance of being watched.

"Shh, shh," he motioned to Maylin, who rolled her eyes. It's not like she could even _make_ a noise. The escort for District 1 came on the five televisions, before following suit on the other four. It was kind of annoying to have all nine televisions on the same program, and the noise was deafening.

"Hello District One, I'm Lilita Tinno, and I'm your escort for this year," the escort cried out into the microphone. The crowd in front of her was already riled up, so she need not excite them anymore. Terkast saw her around the Capitol occasionally. With her bright red body and flaming orange hair it was hard to miss her.

"This year's Quarter Quell is going to be so exciting," she gushed, drawing forth a large cheer from the crowd. "Let's pick the tributes now, ok?" She dug her arm around the clear bowl filled with pink slips. Of course, Lilita _had_ to be different from every other escort.

"Cree Sooke?" she said, earning many groans from the crowd. A tall, copper-skinned girl walked out from the 18-year-old section, her black hair blowing out behind her. She got up onto stage, and introduced herself, glaring at the crowd. A young girl screeched in the throng, and the cameras frantically tried to find her. They came up with a twelve-year-old girl looking just like Cree on the stage.

"Interesting," Terkast muttered, grabbing a sheet of paper and flipping it over so he could write. "Not the usual blonde and blue, feisty. Cares about her sister dearly." Maylin looked horrified at the last part, and how Terkast said it. He sounded if he enjoyed this part, coming up with ways to kill children.

"That's great," Lilita said to Cree, and ushered off to the side. "For our boy, we have Alba Tyto." A 16-year-old boy came from the crowd, looking as if this was his best day. "Any volunteers?" she asked, completely expecting them.

"Me!" A black haired boy said, and nearly stalked onto the stage. The other boys stopped their vicious fighting to get onto the stage, looking appalled as he stood up and introduced himself as Jet Vermeil. There were no volunteers for the girls, since Cree stood her ground, and gave the evil-eye to the crowd.

"Well," Lilita said, "here are your District One tributes! Good luck!" The two tributes walked off the stage following Lilita, and District Two came on the screen.

"Jet… Vermeil…" Terkast muttered, writing furiously. "Seems stealthy, not normal."

"Hello, I'm Chambers Paulson and I'm District Two's escort this year. Since it's a Quarter Quell, let's start it off differently by picking the male first, ok?" He dug around in the blue tinted bowl, and pulled out a slip. "Thumper Teatro?" he read, calling forth a young 13-year old.

"Me!" A large boy pushed his way, making Thumper fall to the ground. "I'm Floyd Barabe, and I'm going to win this year!" he announced into Chambers' microphone. The escort was looking a bit shocked still, and took a second to regain himself.

"Ok," he said. "Our girl tribute is Amika Davidson!" A twelve year old came up to the stage, looking frightened by Floyd. "Any volunteers?" he asked, glaring at Floyd, who smirked.

A fight broke out between the girls, and a tall girl came out on top. She laughed at the others as she pushed people off the stage, reaching the microphone just in time. "I'm Tamara Lively," she said confidently, scarcely out of breath.

"Tamara and Floyd. Both look as if they're training to be peacekeepers. Would be fun for a Career group." He looked up at the screen, which showed the two tributes shaking hands. "Will you go get some food? I want some roast lamb, if you don't mind."

Maylin got up on the wave of his hand, and gladly went to go get some food. She'd probably take longer, since watching the Games with Terkast was so twisted.

"District Three," he muttered, writing the name on top and underlining it. He watched his brother, Kornicu, get up on the stage. His mother was so proud of the boys, since they had become escorts and Head Gamemaker respectively. It was her favorite pastime to watch the Games to see her three sons.

"The female tribute is Marielle Bernstein!" Kornicu announced, waving his slip wildly in the air. Although Kornicu was one of Terkast's triplets, it was hard to say they looked alike. Kornicu took the path most escorts did, and looked semi-normal. His skin was a regular color, and the only thing different about him was his light blue hair and yellow eyes. Marielle came up, and Kornicu steamed right through without asking for volunteers, since there would be none.

"Asher Decon?" he asked, and a small boy came up onto the stage, his knees shaking in fear. "Here are your tributes, Panem! I'm Kornicu Nilgwis, enjoy reaping day!" The overall crowd's hiss of anger was cut short as the sign for District Four came up.

Terkast sat in wait for District Three to end, for he knew Kornicu would call later and dish out things on the two tributes. It would be the same thing for District Nine, with his other brother, Worsol.

"District Four, are you ready for some Reapings?" Chastity Nicolet called. She had been with District Four for so long, she didn't even have to announce her name. "Seel Wigman?" she cried out, getting no response. A small, ginger kid was pushed into the aisle, and he started crying as he went up.

"It's going to be fine," Chastity said, before picking out a female name. "Swan Tindle?" she called. Once the darker girl got up on stage, the words weren't even out of Chastity's mouth when girls and boys started toward the stage. Two seemed to be working together, and they climbed the stage while fighting others off.

"I'm Caddis Tipper!" the girl shouted into the microphone before kicking another girl in the head. The boy punched another boy, and kicked him when he was down. He introduced himself as Joss Summers as he then pushed the kid off stage.

"Enough!" Chastity shouted, stopping the fight in its tracks. "We have our two tributes, thank you. Thank you."

Terkast laughed at Chastity. "Caddis and Joss. Seem to both be strong, good at fighting, willing to make an alliance to better themselves. Good Careers."

Maylin came in then, carrying a tray full of sandwiches and a few legs of lamb. "Thanks, Maylin dear," he muttered, watching carefully as Shearon Kukana picked up the pink bowl for the girls. "Our girl this year is Samantha Keller!" A skinny 18-year-old walked up, trying to act calm although she was clearly disturbed.

"And we have Corson Livington for our male tribute. Come on up Corson!" Shearon moved to make the tributes shake hands when a call came from the crowd.

"Wait! Uh, wait!" A small girl with long hair came up onto the stage. "You never asked… if you wanted volunteers, and I… I want to be one," she stammered, trying to overcome her fear. Terkast grumbled, since he already wrote Samantha's name at the top of the list. He crossed it out, and his pen poised waiting for the girl to say her name.

Shearon gaped for a few seconds, before regaining her composure. "I, uh, thought there wasn't going to be any, so I didn't ask. What's your name?"

"F-f-f-Frankie Heathome," the girl said, drawing a long cry from a boy in the pens. He cried out that she couldn't, but Frankie ignored him.

"Alrighty then," Shearon said. "You two shake hands. Give it up for Frankie Heathome and Corson Livington, your District Five Tributes."

"Weak, weak," Terkast muttered, writing the exact words he said next to their names. Maylin looked aghast at what he was doing. She herself was from District Five, and she personally knew Corson's older sister Lilianna. District Five isn't weak, they just chose brains over brawn. Oftentimes that didn't work out in the Games, but they still won more than District Twelve!

"District Six, halfway done," Terkast said, taking a lamb leg off the platter. "Take what you want," he said, waving a hand at her and taking a big bite.

Grease dripped down from his chin as he chewed the savory lamb, his eyes locked on the nine screens in front of him. "Linea Navy!" The escort, Thom Bell, announced happily. He then called out the male tribute, Wolf Spanes. From the look of it, District Six was young this year. Wolf was only 12, while Linea was 14. They wouldn't have much chance in the arena, Maylin thought sadly to herself.

"And now we're going to have an intermission!" A loud voice made Maylin jump. She realized it was Charmain's happy face on the screen. "So far, there are a lot of good tributes! It's going to be an interesting Quarter Quell, right guys?"

Terkast looked down at his notes, and then back at the screen. He nodded at Charmain, his lips moving quickly. Maylin realized that he was reading over what he had written at each of the Reapings. To her horror, he clicked his pen and wrote one word she knew very well, arguably the only one she knew other than her name. Mutts was written in capital letters at the top of a page, and a bunch of other letters written underneath.

"I'll be back in time for the rest of the Reapings. Uh, don't do anything dangerous, and don't touch any buttons. Uh, duty calls!" Terkast added with fake cheerfulness, and hopped out of his seat. He padded quietly across the room, and shut the door after him with just as much noise.

Maylin was left alone in the large room, surrounded by blinking lights and piles of papers. She got up carefully, knowing it would take Terkast at least ten minutes to go to and fro from the bathroom. Maylin slid a piece of his work towards her, stunned by the squiggly lines on the page. They were in a seemingly random order, which she couldn't pick out.

A few letters popped out to her, such as M or Y, since they were part of her name. Mutts glared at her from the top of the page, and she mentally shuddered away from it. The name brought back the memories of being hunted down by them, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Maylin replaced the page on Terkast's desk, thoroughly haunted by the group of letters. She would do just as he said, and wouldn't touch anything.

**A/N: I know, kinda short, but I was getting bored… The other Reapings will be up soon, I promise!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I know, I know. Late update. I'm sorry, it's school. Please forgive me and read?**

Terkast hurried along the hallways of pure white tile. It was blinding with the artificial lights, but his control room offered relief from it. He trusted Maylin so far, because she seemed quiet, and not the person to tell secrets.

He made a sharp left at the next intersection, grumbling at how the bathroom was so far away from his room. Maybe he should convert the closet next door into a bathroom? However, Terkast shrugged it off. Although he had to hurry during the Games, as not to miss any tributes killing each other, it was his last year.

The dark door stood out from the monotonous white walls, and Terkast pushed it open. Maylin still sat in her chair, her eyes glued to Chastity. She seemed to mouth some words that the announcer was speaking, as if wishing she could speak once more.

"Maylin?" he called softly, and the Avox jumped in her chair. She looked ashamed, but Terkast ignored that and sat in his chair. He saw with satisfaction a leg of lamb on a plate in front of her had been nibbled slightly.

"And for the 732 Games!" Chastity crowed, clapping her hands together in excitement. The fact that the Head Gamemaker, Terkast, as you all know, made it like the inside of a computer! That definitely gave the edge to District 3 that year! Which is why Milwake Freeg is still alive, people. The viruses that attacked them. I personally think that was Terkast's best arena!"

Chastity looked at her fellow Capitolites, viewing their expressions. "Anyway," she said, "it's time for us to go to District Seven, to see who their tributes wind up being!"

The screen flashed to the District Seven Town Hall, which was surrounded by immense trees. The four other TVs followed suit, except at a different angle.

"I'm Grensboro Liffwood," the escort said slowly into the microphone, his voice deep and melancholy. "For these Games, it's a Quarter Quell, and I hope we can get some good competitors this year."

As usual, the crowd was silent at his introduction. Unruffled, Grensboro dipped his hand into the pink ball, moving his hand around. "Harley Wiskon is our female tribute. Come on up, Harley!"

A tall, athletic girl emerged from the 16-year-old section, but she tripped halfway up. A small boy helped her up, but there were tears in her eyes. Grensboro looked at her quietly before digging around in the boy's bowl.

Terkast let out his breath in an angry sigh. District Seven was usually a good competitor, especially the girls. However, this Harley seemed as weak as Frankie from Five!

"Duggan Chase," Grensboro read out, waiting patiently for the older boy to emerge. However, a slightly younger boy strode up while shouting out that he volunteered. Terkast's bad expression turned into a happy one as the strong boy was on the stage.

"Your name?" Grensboro asked. He sounded slightly confused, but his solemn voice hid all confusion. Terkast was only able to pick it out because of his many conversations with Grensboro.

"I'm Gyton Howell, future Hunger Game champion," Gyton announced. He gained some disgusted looks from the crowd, who were upset they had a near-Career in their presence. Grensboro nodded, and thanked the District Seven crowd.

Vera Yervat showed up for District Eight, calmly waiting in front of a smaller crowd. She introduced herself before picking up a slip from the girl's bowl.

Terkast didn't hear the name, because he was writing down furiously for the District Seven tributes. "Harley," he muttered, "weak, crying. Need to see if she's good at anything. Gyton is strong, confident. He'll be a good contender. What was her name, Maylin?"

He looked at her for a few seconds before realization dawned on his face. "I'll just wait, then." Vesture Buchannan was called up as the male tribute. He looked weak, but what would a District Eight tribute be other than weak? Their District produced no good tributes, since all they did was make cloth and clothes. No chance to create a strong tribute in that equation.

Vera thanked Lavinia, a tall girl wearing revealing clothes, and Vesture before the crowd. Terkast wrote down their names and 'weak' beside each of them as well. Maylin closed her eyes to ignore this, and started humming a small tune to keep herself occupied.

"That's my other brother, Worsol," Terkast said, nudging Maylin. She observed a tall man with dark green hair and gold stars around his eyes. He looked weird for an escort, she decided.

He picked out two names, Brenda McArthy and Tristan Workle. To Maylin's surprise, he didn't write down any condescending words next to their names, watching the screens. It was probably what he had to do with District Three. His brother would come and contact Terkast about the tributes.

District Ten arrived, a peaceful place filled with wide open fields. A few brown cows were in the background, the silence broken by their mournful lowing.

"I'm Chiara Raxtus, and I'm your escort for this year. Our girl tribute is… Kacey Fickus!" A young, twelve year old girl came out, her face set in a defiant scowl. "Our male tribute is… Arrett Hayes!" Another twelve year old came, trying to contain his fear. He did a good job of it, with Chiara smiling warmly at him.

"Both twelve, hm?' Terkast noted, writing what he said next to their names. "I have no hope for them in these Hunger games. District Ten won't win this year."

District Eleven's Town Hall came on screen, along with a considerably larger crowd. Sendra Culock came on screen, addressing her crowd with some regret. She was a smart one, and knew that people wouldn't be happy about the hunger games.

Sendra was an older woman, and felt the sadness after 53 years of being their escort. She learned to feel their pain at losing their children year after year. Sendra might actually be welcome if she wanted to move to District Eleven.

"Your tributes this year are Livianna Chayro and Indas Uctabel," Sendra said quietly into the microphone. A groan went through the crowd as a strong male stepped onto the stage, and a tall female. Terkast understood their actions, because the stronger the people were, the less work they had to do.

"Both seem strong. The District seems upset at losing both of them, so they have to be worth something!"

Terkast looked expectantly at Maylin, but she was looking away. Maylin seemed to be studying the dark wall, but he knew she was just trying to cope with the idea of watching the Hunger Games from a controlling point of view. He knew she came from the Districts, and it must be hard for her.

"District Twelve is never that good. They haven't won in around… 43 years? Their mentor is still young though, sine she won when she was 14. They better win soon, though. I have no clue what they'd do after she dies."

Regien Illstro stepped onto the podium, and called out in welcome to his District. There were a few responses, but most were quiet. They stared at Regien with large, dark eyes, hoping against hope that their family wouldn't be picked.

"Virgo Irving?" Regien questioned, looking out into the silent crowd. A small 16-year-old girl stepped on to the stage, her younger sibling crying out in the crowd. Everyone turned towards her brother, who was crying at her mother's side.

Regien patted Virgo on the shoulder, and pulled out a slip of paper from the blue tinted bowl. "Sheave Trackman?" he asked, looking up with hopeful eyes. A strong male emerged, his face set in determination.

"There are your tributes!" Regien called, and the screen went back to Chastity.

"What a wonderful array of tributes, don't you think?" she asked. Going by how many wins each district has is a good way to say who'll win this year, right Javi?"

An older woman with dark brown hair raised her eye brows. "That'll mean District Two will win, One, Four, Ten, Nine, Eleven, Six, Three, Seven, Eight, Five, and then Twelve. The Careers have the best shot," Javi stated.

Terkast nodded, and switched the TVs to the building of the arena. It was nearly finished, with holes being dug up for traps. There would be a lot of fire in this arena, for it was easily combustible.

"These Games will be very interesting Maylin, dear," Terkast said, looking into her eyes. She nodded, the blood flowing from her face. He could tell that she felt uncomfortable watching these Games, since Avoxes usually just served the tributes.

He patted her shoulder, and escorted her out of the room. He went back to the table in front of the TVs, and grabbed his notebook. He skimmed over the pages one more, and planned out certain Mutts and traps to set on each of them.

These Games would be fun to watch, and control. He stepped out into the pure white hallway, and followed Maylin down towards the sleeping chambers. The next time any excitement would arise was when the tributes would come into the Capitol.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: An update for you. Yes, you, in front of the computer, anxiously waiting for the new chapter. You are the reason I update. Now, please enjoy, you.**

There was a deep rumble coming from within the tunnel, and Shanna Guillig nudged a few of her fellow Gamemakers. Hulton Robins raised his eyebrows, but remained quiet as the sleek, silver train of District One came in.

Terkast sat in the back of the crowd of his Gamemakers, watching the sleek, silver train that marked District One pull into the station. Maylin sat behind him, holding a large silver goblet filled with dark red wine for him to sip from. This was the only way he could get Maylin into the train station, by making her his servant for the short time being.

The doors opened with a rush, and the two mentors of District One stepped out first. Both Gretel Shine and Tenpin Fallowburg were young, and walked towards Terkast with warm smiles.

"I hope you have a good arena and Games planned for this year," Gretel began, rubbing her hands together. She turned and beckoned towards the train, where the tributes stepped out cautiously. "My tributes are ready to win this year, Mr. Head Gamemaker."

Jet stood with his hands crammed in his pockets, glancing around the large train station with barely concealed awe. However, Cree was glaring at Terkast with hate, and she was beginning to creep him out.

"Very well," Terkast laughed, waving a hand as if it meant nothing more than a trifle. The silver train disappeared down the track, not to be used again until the next Games, or if District One has a victor. "Please take your tributes to their rooms, District Seven is about to arrive shortly."

Jet nodded as he passed, copying Tenpin's actions. "He'll be a real good contender," Terkast whispered to Maylin after they were gone. "Do you see how he copied Tenpin? I mean, Tenpin isn't that smart, or hard to copy, but it was nearly perfect!"

A loud rumbling blocked out some of what Terkast had said, as a large, bulky brown train for District Seven, and a smaller, black one came in side by side. The mentors got off, closely followed by their tributes. "Javi Millson!" Terkast called out to the mentor stepping of the black train. "You and District Six are early this year, but that's a good sign!"

Javi gave a small smile, but ushered Linea and Wolf away without any other words. True to the Reapings, the two were young, and looked as if they had no experience in survival.

Gyton from District Seven came right up to Terkast, and shook his hand. Surprised, Terkast let the boy speak. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Nilgwis. I didn't think that we'd get to meet the Head Gamemaker, but it's all the better. I really like the games you run."

Still shocked by the outgoingness of the tribute, Terkast stood in silence until Tusion reprimanded Gyton. He muttered a 'thanks' as they passed, which made both the tributes turn. Gyton smiled, but Harley scowled at him.

"What's up with the snappy female tributes this year?" Terkast asked Maylin with a sigh, but she just shook her head. If she could speak, and if she was a tribute, she'd be the same way.

"I'll just wait until District Two shows up, and then I'll start by visiting them and maybe talking to them. Or perhaps I'll visit them when they're getting all dolled up for the Chariot Rides? That way I can get a nice peek at each of their costumes before the revealing moment!"

Maylin shook her head again, shaking the contents of the goblet slightly. "Now, now, don't ruin the drink just because you aren't having any fun!" Terkast reprimanded her in a joking manner, taking a sip.

A scarlet train filled the station then, and Kerri Sinker bounded off the train, bringing with her Joss and Caddis. "It's been around a year, no?" Lippert asked, coming out of the steam with a bemused expression on his face.

Terkast smiled and shrugged. "It is what it is. We couldn't have the Hunger Games twice a year, or there'd be an uprising. Let alone there'd be a whole lot less population of the Districts in the future!"

Kerri giggled at that, and blinked her eyes a few times. "So where –" she began flirtatiously, before getting cut off.

"You know what to do, Kerri. You're been here for eight years, and you don't need me to tell you."

Her face fell angry in seconds, and she stormed off with Caddis' arm held tightly in a fist. Lippert smiled apologetically as he and Joss followed after them.

Two more trains appeared in unison, a large green painted one, and a smaller dark gray one with a white smokestack. The doors opened with a whoosh, pouring steam out into the station. It obscured Terkast's vision for a few seconds, but he knew it was District Two and Eleven, respectively.

Rind and Carriet came off first, each dressed plainly. They both ignored Terkast, most likely because of the hardships he gave them in their games. Indas was quiet, his head down as he trailed after his mentor. However, Livianna's eyes were bright as she took in everything she could. She waved to Terkast, who smiled at her.

"At least _all_ the females aren't bitchy!" Terkast announced to Maylin, who sighed. District Two waited until the irate team left before exiting their train.

"Why hello, Terkast," Avery called, waving like Livianna did. One of his best friends out of the mentors, Avery and Demelza walked quickly and with purpose towards the Head Gamemaker.

The two mentors looked similar, as if they were siblings. Both were very stocky, and had clear defined muscles. The mentors had black hair, with sharp green eyes, like most of the people in their District. The one thing, other than gender, that made the two different was that Avery had a long, jagged scar up the left side of his face from his Games.

"These are Floyd and Tamara. They're from two of the best trained Peacekeeper families in our District. They are much better than the rest of the tributes, I watched the videos myself!" Demelza said, her chin raised in pride.

Terkast knew that she was extremely proud to be a mentor, teaching her tributes how to fight after her amazing win. She won last year, and was rather young, although not for a District Two mentor.

For last year, the arena was a mountainous area, with the four largest mountains in the country. In the really small center was the cornucopia. There wasn't much hiding places, and the mountains each were frozen over. Demelza had won by brute strength and double swords. Her best kill was chopping off her district partner apart, limb by limb, starting with the hands.

Terkast shrugged, blinking his eyes as he assessed Demelza. "We'll see, Demelza," he said with arrogance. "Robert Neen from One and Ghila Marx from Four were much better than you, and you still won."

Demelza narrowed her eyes, clearly furious with Terkast. "Yes, Demelza. You should've died," Avery snickered, a hand in front of his mouth to hide his laughing.

Demelza turned her attention to Avery, baring her teeth in anger. "And you won by poison. _That's _the way of the Peacekeeper, right? So just _shut up_."

Terkast, used to the bickering of the two mentors, watched the two tributes. He knew that Demelza and Avery were normally good together, but any mention of their faults would send each other into an insulting frenzy.

Floyd's eyebrows were raised, and he whistled lowly in amazement. Tamara had her hands on her hips, and her lips pouted. She looked as if she was ready to kill her mentors now, and save her the embarrassment.

"Well then, we have enough arguments now," Hulton said, waving his hands to interrupt the mentors. "If you'll take your tributes upstairs, it'd be greatly appreciated. The rest of the trains will be arriving, and then we'll get ready for the Chariot Rides."

Demelza glared at the young Gamemaker, who whimpered in response. But she followed, still muttering harsh words under her breath at Avery.

Terkast was slightly upset that Hulton had broken up the fight. They were always great entertainment, and Terkast loved the way they reacted together. However, he could see Maylin was happy that Hulton had stopped them. Her eyes were wide with fear, and Terkast could almost hear the thoughts running through her mind. 'If they act that way to each other, imagine what they would've been like to their enemies!'

"Come, Maylin dear," Terkast said as he got up. "We're going to take a trip to my office, and then we're going to see each of the tributes getting into their costumes. Won't that be wonderful?" Maylin plastered a fake smile onto her face, and nodded.

She placed the goblet down on a platter, and followed the Gamemaker out of the station. He turned left, and pushed out the large glass doors, onto the Capitol streets. There were a few regal Capitolites rushing about, and the only people on the streets. That was because they closed off the streets closest to the Game Headquarters so there wouldn't be that much confusion.

Terkast walked slowly, his eyes on his feet. He waved to a few people, but rarely paid attention to anything but the short path to the Headquarters.

The large, bright silver building came into view, and the metallic doors opened immediately once Terkast was in view. He nodded twice to each of the guards in thanks, and walked with purpose to the elevator.

There were many buttons in the elevator, each brightly lit up and blinking. Terkast pressed the button 42 – Q, and the doors shut with a clang.

Maylin hated the elevator. It moved so quickly, and jerked so harshly on the turns that it made her stomach quake. The machine sped up 42 levels, coming to a screeching halt, before zooming off to the right. There, it made a few turns, before stopping abruptly.

This corridor, the Q corridor, was rarely used by anyone except for Terkast. He quickly moved towards the fourteenth door on the left, and pressed his hand against it. It opened with a large beep, allowing the two access to the dark room.

The televisions were on, showing off Terkast's masterpiece. An arena that was composed of equally sized chunks of the nature in each district. It was perfect. The arena would remind each tribute of their home, and make them more willing to fight for it. It would also be a quick giveaway to where each of the tributes would go first.

Near the televisions, on top of a large stack of papers, was the telephone. Two large, red buttons were blinking, and the Head Gamemaker strolled over to it.

He pressed the button with four arrows on it, and waited while the messages rewound themselves.

"Hey Terkast, it's Kornicu. So, the tributes this year from three, they're pretty good. Marielle says she's really stealthy and quick, but doesn't know how to use any weapons. She says her strategy is to hide, and wait until the end. It's a pretty good strategy for someone who doesn't know anything, I say. Asher is a different story. He has low self-esteem, but is pretty good with traps. I saw him create one at dinner today, that effectively caught an orange and cut it in two! They're really kinda young this year, but'll be good contenders. Good luck!"

Terkast furiously wrote down whatever his brother said for the tributes in the spaces that were empty. Maylin thought that Kornicu and his brother were extremely unfair to their tributes. They were just giving out their most precious secrets, which were supposed to stay that way! This way, Terkast knew what to pull on each of these tributes, something he couldn't do to the others.

A loud, long beep interrupted her, and another masculine voice came on. However, this one was scratchier, and hurt her ears.

"Hey bro, it's me, your favorite. You did _not_ just say Kornicu!" The voice on the other end laughed. "Anyway, it's Worsol, if you haven't guessed by now. Let me see, my tributes, that's what you want! They're not much better than last year, but Tristan, I think he can hold his own."

Terkast sighed at his brother's antics, and fast forwarded the tape a little. "He'll go on and on," he told Maylin in explanation. "-looks really plain too. But what he can do, now _that's_ a story. He says he works with a boomerang. Haven't heard that one before, so it's be pretty damn interesting! He doesn't seem to have much of a conscious, so he'll be good to put in big groups to get many kills! And… uh, Brenda. She's pretty hot, I mean for a district girl. She has –"

Terkast sighed, and pressed the fast forward button again. Worsol has always annoyed him, ever since they were children. It's most likely why he was giving such description now, just to annoy his big brother. Come to think of it, he has always been jealous.

"-talks all the time about hunting with her brother. She's really good with bows and arrows, by the way. Comes from the hunting, I guess. And those are my tributes. They're _so_ going to win because I say –"

The nimble white fingers quickly pushed the stop button. "Good, we're done with _him_ for now. We'll go see the tributes now, Maylin, to lighten us up after Worsol's talk."

He smiled at her, and put a hand in the small of her back. Slowly he led her out, and closed the door behind him. He placed his other hand on the door, and another beep told him it was now locked. They headed towards the elevators at the end of the hall, Terkast bouncing up and down in excitement. He loved the Chariot Rides.

**A/N: Chapter Fin. Enjoyable? Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

Terkast pressed the elevator button, making the doors clang shut. Maylin was behind him, her hands clamped onto the golden plaited railings so hard that her knuckles were white. The Gamemaker looked at her with pity, but shrugged. He was used to it because he grew up as a Capitolite, and often rode elevators as a kid.

He pushed the 'Ground Lvl' button, and tapped his foot impatiently. His hard soled boots made the floor emit a high metallic sound. After shooting down many floors, and left a whole lot more, the elevator slowed, making Terkast sigh.

"Wonder which over-eccentric Capitolite joins us today?" he asked sarcastically, making Maylin crack her eyes open and glance at him through the slits.

A skinny woman with silver hair and yellow eyes entered from floor 24 B, giving Terkast a wide smile. "Well, if I had known that I was sharing the elevator with the famous Terkast Nilgwis, I woulda dressed better!"

"Hello Jahall," Terkast said with a bored undertone. He turned to Maylin, and introduced the Avox to the Head Muttation Designer.

Jahall chattered on about her 'special' mutts, which were apparently able to create fire and use it. "They're so wonderful, Terkast. I would love to show you, but you don't come down to the Mutt Floor anymore. Stop on by, and I'll show you, ok?" Jahall cried as she stepped off on floor 4B, leaving Maylin and Terkast alone.

"The one bad thing about being the Head Gamemaker is that _every single Capitolite_ knows you and wants to be your friend!" Terkast ranted, noticing that Maylin was still holding on for dear life, and probabaly not paying attention.

He sighed, and tapped his fingers against the railings that Maylin was still holding onto. He waited patiently for the miniscule beep that came with passing each floor, happy once it gave a louder, lower beep, and stopped.

"Come on, Maylin. We're here." She opened her eyes fully, and glanced about, before sighing. She unclenched her fingers, and followed Terkast into the wide lobby.

The guards opened the large doors like before, greeting Terkast if he was a close friend of theirs. However, he just waved his hand and smiled, pretending to like them. Maylin could detect waves of annoyance off of Terkast's normally calm and collected demeanor. She wondered if the fact that the Hunger Games was just around the corner had anything to do with it.

"Come on," Terkast called, because Maylin had drifted far behind him. "We're going to miss it. I'm pretty sure Annaliesia has a nice costume for our wonderful District One tributes this year. I mean, she didn't have such a good one last year… which is probably why they died. Everyone knows that a Career needs good sponsors. They didn't have very good personalities, either…"

Maylin quickened her pace as Terkast continued to talk to himself. It was most defiantely the stress of the Games that was making him act like this.

They walked through the doors of the large building, nodding to each of the receptionists. Terkast walked through the doors, motioning Maylin forward. "This elevator doesn't travel so quickly, because it holds tributes from the Districts, like yourself."

He pressed a few buttons, and the elevator lurched upwards with a groan. It jumped in awkward places, making her stomach heave and gurgle. They arrived at a lavish floor, with bright lights and gilded doors all around. Terkast nonchalantly walked up to the second door on the right, and opened it without much care.

A shriek of surprise greeted him. "Oh, you're here to see _my_ tribute? What a surprise!" the voice called, shrilly inviting him in. Maylin followed meekly, shielding her eyes from the bright white light that assaulted her vision.

What she saw inside was surprising. The District One female was up on a pedestal, a large white swatch of material draped around her shoulders and waist. The tone made her unusual coppery skin stand out beautifully, and was decorated with small pearls.

"Ah, Cree," Terkast said, smiling as he circled her form. She glared at him in response, her lips pursed tightly. "You're very different than most of the girls I get. How do you think you'll fare?"

"I'll do fine," she spat. "Can you please finish draping me with this ridiculous costume now? I would like to leave."

Terkast, unabashed, continued on with his questioning. "How do you feel about the Capitol?" He stepped slightly to the right, to let the prep team continue to hoist the material on the snappy girl. She winced as a pin stuck in her shoulder, but Maylin saw how beautiful it was. She looked like an angel draped in all the white material, the pearls glinting in the light and drawing her eyes to them.

"Aren't you supposed to do this in the interviews?" Cree snapped, trying to stay still so her team could finish with her costume.

Terkast nodded sagely. "I guess I am. I would've just liked to see what you're like before then. I guess you're not willing to talk to me, though."

He then strolled out of the door before Cree could manage another biting comment. As Maylin left, she heard Cree snarl a foul word, only to be reprimanded by her stylist. "Hopefully Jet will take our questioning better. I hoped this would make me more… understanding of the tributes than what I could glean from Apollo's 3 minutes!"

The Head Gamemaker then opened the door adjacent to Cree's, saying hello to Mykayla as he went in. Jet was also up on a pedestal, except his cheeks were red as he clutched a dark fabric to his midsection. "You didn't say anyone else was supposed to be coming in," he nearly yelled, his ears starting to go a tomato color.

"No, this isn't her fault. It's a surprise!" Terkast exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, but pointedly looking away from Jet. "I'm just here to ask questions."

Jet cocked his head, intrigued by the word 'questions.' He smiled. "What kind of questions?" His smile deepened, and Maylin found out just how attractive he was. He had dark hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes. He stared at her when speaking, trying to entice her.

"How was your life back home?" Terkast asked, making Jet's smile turn sly. He turned around, letting Mykayla pin the fabric up without him holding it. She seemed to be going for the opposite take on Jet. He was the demon, while Cree was the angel. Very clever.

"Well, my mother was killed when I was young, so I never knew her. She murdered my brother and sister, Sapphire and Coal, and she was killed as punishment. So my father was very protective of me, and taught me like most of the District One tributes – as Careers. But I didn't train normally. Sicne I was special in my upbringing, I should be special in my training. I was trained stealthily, so I could sneak up and kill people instead of being all _'Rawr, I'm going to kill you with my brute strength and snap off your limbs one by one!_' I say it's a pretty good strategy, and it's going to keep me alive and kicking while the rest of them are dead and -"

Mykayla smacked his back, the sound astonishing everyone in the room. Jet called out an 'Ow!' and Terkast looked at the stylist with curiosity. "Don't listen to him fully. He lies often, believe me. He told me he was allergic to wax, and couldn't have his body hair removed! It was only when I threatened to pluck it all when he fessed up!"

Maylin glanced at Terkast, who was chuckling quietly to himself. He grasped Maylin's upper arm gently, and led her out of the room, bringing her away from Jet.

She broke away from his gaze reproachfully, but didn't have much of a choice as she was being dragged by Terkast. Maylin didn't even notice she was in the presence of another girl until she spoke.

"What are _you_ doing here? My father never said anything about the Head Gamemaker _meeting_ them. For all I know, you're not supposed to even talk to us!" the girl cried, causing her stylist to fluster around the bottom of the podium.

Maylin didn't like this girl at all. She was a typical Career from District Two, down to the looks and attitude. Terkast muttered something, which Maylin didn't catch, but Tamara certainly did.

"Really?" she asked with attitude. "I am more important than anyone. In this Game, it's me against everyone else, my father taught me that. I volunteered for glory and wealth, so that when my father dies, I'm not left with nothing. I _need_ this, and it's what I've been training for. That's why I'm more important. Because, really, what glory comes from death?"

The stylist, a pretty girl with sapphire blue eyes, turned to Terkast. "I'm sorry if you had more questions, but I kinda need you to leave. I'm already late, and if I don't get Tamara out with Floyd and Sucko, then I'll be in so much trouble. They might even demote me…"

Terkast put his hand on the stylist's shoulder, and said a few reassuring words. He left then, and Maylin followed him only after sticking her tongue out at the Career.

The next boy was big and gruff, and was dressed in a Peacekeeper Uniform decked with certain military aspects. Terkast asked him the typical first question, and he grunted out "I want to win."

She didn't like him much either, he seemed to put himself above everyone else, so much that he wouldn't even talk to Terkast properly! If she was a tribute, she'd be more respectful to the man who'd be controlling her life in the Games, and would decide if she won! It's nothing about _wanting_ to win, just about how many sponsors you get, and how much the Gamemakers like you!

"I have a sister at home. She wanted to volunteer, but Tamara beat her there. Plus, I wouldn't protected her or anythin', I'd kill her as soon as possible. But then my ma wouldn't like me as much. Pa wouldn't mind, cause he taught both of us. It's better if she has a couple mo' years of practice, an' then come and win."

Terkast nodded, and thanked the brute. He walked slowly out of the room, making sure Maylin was in the hallway before shutting the door. He sighed. "This is a lot more annoying than I thought it would be. Apollo must have a hard time keeping these conversations going. I'm going to continue. Can you go find my brothers – you know what they look like, I've already told you – and tell them to meet me at lunch at 1230. And then I'll take you to. Be prepared for the best food you've ever tasted. Allack's is the best restaurant, and I always go there in the heat of Game season."

Maylin nodded, taking this all in. Now, what were their names? Kornicu and Worsaw? Her thoughts were interrupted by a feminine screech of terror, and Terkast shut the door with a last sheepish grin at Maylin.

She started down the hallway, her steps padded on the lush golden carpet beneath her. She passed the four doors that she knew already held tributes getting 'dolled up,' to use Terkast's wording. She thought of the Careers inside of them, and felt nausea rising within her stomach.

The elevator came when she presed the button, and Maylin wondered how she was supposed to find Kornicu and Worsaw. She faintly remembered Terkast saying something about a place the escorts hung around…

She went into the elevator, and was surprised by a tall boy, about 18, with sad gray eyes. She waved slowly, and his eyes focused on her, sharpening a little. She opened her mouth, before closing it again, frustrated. Hopefully he would talk, and tell her what was going on.

He didn't though, and Maylin realized that he was also an Avox. She mouthed the words 'escorts' to him, and he nodded. Thankfully he was good at reading lips, for she never picked up on the art. If only she could read… or write, then she would carry around a piece of paper!

The doors clanged shut, and carried the two Avoxes down together. For the first time, she saw that he had a small tray of prettily decorated sandwiches on a silver platter, and shuddered at the thought of herself doing that. She wasn't required to do that, ever sicne she became the Head Gamemaker's pet. The biggest thing she did was hold his wine glass!

When the doors opened on a floor, Maylin noticed immediately that it was underground. The air felt slightly wet, and the entire floor had an enclosing feeling to it. The Avox motioned forward, keeping his platter perfectly balanced.

He carefully walked through the narrow hallway, covered in the same thick rug as the prepping floor. At the end of it was a high doorway, a sign on it with many letters that Maylin didn't comprehend. He pushed open the door, and was greeted with the cry of 'Sandwiches!'

She stepped in behind him, and saw many of the oddest people that she saw on television. She looked amongst them for Kornicu and Worsaw. Kornicu had light blue hair… and Worsaw dark green. She scanned the crowd in fornt of her, and found them immediately. The two were in the center of the throng of people, talking animatedly to a skinny woman.

Maylin went over, and was prepared to wait her turn when Worsaw turned to her immediately. "Yes? What can I do for you on this wonderful Chariot Day?" he asked politely.

Maylin furrowed her brow, unsure of how to convey Terkast's message. She mimed eating, and then put up 10 fingers plus 2, and then another 3.

Worsaw looked at her as if she had three heads, and Maylin thought harder on how to mime what she really meant. However, Kornicu slapped Wosaw's shoulder and exclaimed loudly.

"Worsol, she's a messenger from Terkast! Our annual lunch at Allack's, at 12:30, right?" he asked, turning to Maylin hopefully. She nodded with excitement, glad that she didn't have to embarrass herself. After realizing what the brother's name was, though, she kicked herself mentally. Wors_ol_, not Wors_aw_. Kornicu then turned to Worsol and laughed. "You were never good at charades, brother!"

Maylin went to leave then, but was stopped by a happy Kornicu. "You're the Avox Terkast said he had? I personally like you. Intuitive, polite. Heck, you look smart enough to win your own Games!"

"Where you off to?" Worsol asked, his face still in a frown after being made fun of. However, he tried lightening the mood by smiling at her. His teeth were died a green color. This made was even more strange then she originally thought.

She moved her arms in an wide arc, hoping they'd understand. Thankfully, Kornicu came to the rescue. "Nah, you don't have to go back to Terkast! Stick with us, you'll learn some _very_ interesting things about our fellow escorts!"

They herded her to the center of the room, where they had been talking to the skinny woman. "Now, do you see that woman over there, in the tight purple dress?" Worsol began, but Maylin zoned out for a moment.

Did she prefer this over being starved in District Five? Sadly, Maylin checked that mental box a yes. She was fed here, and actually paid attention to, instead of just wanted for the money she could receive. Though it felt like a bad thing, Maylin wasn't really upset over the lack of her voice, either. She never really talked at home. She was much better off at the Capitol as a pet then at home. Besides, her parents probably didn't even miss her. They had five other children, and they weren't as old as she was, either.

With a smile, Maylin turned back to the brothers for a lesson on 'Who's Who' in the Capitol.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Even though I'm not doing this from the tribute's Point of View, I find that it's still extremely boring. **

Terkast closed the last door with a small 'snick,' and sighed a large breath of relief. The tributes seemed all simple-minded, surprised at not really wanting to talk to him. He was the Head Gamemaker; you would think that some of them would at least try to suck up for a few extra days of survival.

However, he smacked his forehead with his palm at the thought of that. Yes, he would control some of their deaths, but the rest would remain up to the tributes.

The elevator clunked down to the B12 Level, and Terkast stepped out onto the familiar gold carpeted tunnel. The individual carpet strands were still tilted towards the end of the tunnel, which meant that nobody had left yet.

Terkast strolled down the hallway, thinking random thoughts about the nature of these Games. From what he saw, the Careers would be very important – but they'd be killed off early, hopefully. There were quite a lot of younger tributes too, like District Ten.

He counted his footsteps in a simple rhythm, but noticed something was off. It took a few seconds of hard thinking to realize that Maylin was still gone. Terkast hoped she was with his brothers, and tried to get used to the sound of one set of feet moving down the hallway.

A large gilded door marked 'Escort Lounge' came up, and Terkast opened it quickly. He was greeted by approximately 30 people, and found his brothers quickly. Kornicu had Maylin by the shoulders, while Worsol pointed out random people. Both were chattering excitedly, but often switched to hushed tones. From her facial expression, Maylin looked to be enjoying herself.

He moved forward to greet the trio, and Worsol met his gaze. "Now, him, he's the Head Gamemaker. He enjoys watching younger children die – don't we all! – but he _causes_ their deaths. I think he got that destructive habit from his younger years, when –"

"Ah, yes. Being shadowed by his younger, clearly better brothers, he wanted to kill them. But children will have to do, because Mr. 'I'm-a-Head-Gamemaker' can't compare to his better brothers," Kornicu interrupted. Maylin giggled, looking away from Terkast as she did so.

"Yes, very nice," he said, tapping his foot. The carpet took away most of the sound, but the impact still made a dull thumping noise. "It's nearly 12:20, and it takes a while to get to Allack's by the train. Or did you two just conveniently forget that?"

Kornicu muttered something under his breath, and dropped his arm from around Maylin's shoulders. He rolled his eyes and sighed before walking out the door. "You ruined his fun," Worsol complained, helping Maylin out, "and mine too. Lunch-smunch, we were gossiping about people!"

Maylin heard Terkast grumble as they walked down the hall. She followed Kornicu as he shuffled, and stopped next to him as he punched the 'Up' button. Worsol and Terkast were close behind, and Maylin could see that Kornicu was upset that Terkast demanded them all places. Maybe he was the person who more closely related to the story, not Terkast. He seemed outshined by Head Gamemaker and District Nine Escort – both of which are better than District Three escort.

The elevator came clunking down, and all four of them stepped in. The ride up to the lobby of the Training Center was quiet, and Maylin fidgeted often in the pressured silence.

They exited the building, and walked a few blocks to the train station. The silence was beginning to annoy her, because with Terkast it was never quiet. He always babbled to her, or even to himself. "Come on, dear," Worsol said gruffly, escorting her onto the silvery train in front of them. It was sleek and smooth, nothing like the clunky District Trains.

They rode in silence as the train whooshed over its tracks. It stopped suddenly, throwing Maylin into Terkast, but he chuckled and set her upright. A large light blue building waited in front of them, and Kornicu finally smiled. Worsol was the first off, followed by Maylin and his brothers.

The small, dainty pink Capitolite girl was smiling a large grin right inside the doors. "Terkast! Kornicu! Worsol! Back for your annual dining, I see. And you have your Avox with you, how nice. Follow me," the girl said in a rush.

She led them through a maze of tables, most of them occupied with people who shouted out greetings. Finally, their waitress brought them to a large table in a far corner decked with three ornate chairs and a bowl of finely made bread. The three brothers sat down, and the girl was ready to take their orders when Terkast spoke up. "A chair for Maylin, please?" he said forcefully, meaning that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

The waitress looked around for a second, and then appalled when her eyes alighted on Maylin. The Avox shifted uncomfortably under her glare, and only once the girl had sent away for a chair did she feel better.

"And how are you two doing this year?" Terkast started, talking to his brothers. Kornicu shrugged, while Worsol had to finish chewing. The pink girl arrived with the chair, and set it down with a clunk.

"_Now_ what do you want?" She asked her left hand on her hip. A pout was forming on her face, which deepened when Terkast offered Maylin his menu.

The Head Gamemaker cleared his throat before speaking. "I'll have the lamb stew like always, and I'm sure Kornicu and Worsol want the same as they always get," he said clearly, accented by his brother's nods.

Terkast motioned to Maylin's menu, and she picked out a tasty looking tart. "Maylin'll have a raspberry tart, with extra lemon-cream filling." The waitress left with a huff, taking the three menus with her.

"Usually Oliva is better," Kornicu muttered thoughtfully, taking a small sip of his drink. She returned quickly with a new plate of bread, and whisked away again. "Must be the Games," he supposed, but Maylin knew it was about her. In Oliva's tiny world, it must be hard to accept an Avox was getting better treatment than her.

The brothers chattered about certain people in the Capitol, who was doing what, who was going to sponsor who. Maylin zoned out, since she didn't know any of the people they were talking about and could afford not to pay attention. However, Terkast's words drew her out of her reverie.

"The tributes this year are real brutes! I had such a hard time talking to them – it's like they refuse to talk," Terkast said, starting off the conversation. Maylin just listened as Kornicu and Worsol tried to defend their tributes. It wasn't like she could say anything anyway, let alone stimulate it.

"Go through them in order, and I'll tell you if the bastards from One are worse than mine from Nine," Worsol said gruffly, giving Terkast a small glare.

"Cree kept snapping at me, and not giving much of an answer. If she didn't snap at me, I'd say she was mute! Jet was a liar, and barely told any of the truth. I mean, what does that do? Nothing," Terkast said, answering his own question. He was getting quite animated in his description. The Head Gamemaker picked up a piece of bread, and held it delicately in his hands while he continued.

"Floyd grunted for most of his answers. That's _very_ helpful," he said sarcastically, placing a small strip of bread in his mouth. "Tamara is just like any other female District Two tribute – better than everyone else, and annoying as hell. Now, for District Three, Marielle kept stuttering, but always insisting that she was fine and could do the Games. That was really confusing, since I didn't ask her anything about that – I was asking about her home. Asher was so quiet; he nearly whispered all of his answers. And then –"

Kornicu interrupted him, and coughed before interjecting. "Marielle doesn't have much to do in the Games. She told Milwake she once tried to commit suicide. She's telling you she believes she can do it, which is amazing from her. She isn't good with new people, apparently. Asher is really quiet, but that's because he keeps his intelligence quiet."

Terkast nodded thoughtfully, taking all of that in. He finished the bread in his hand, and tapped his foot on the floor. "So he'd be good with traps?" he asked, more towards himself than towards anyone else.

Oliva came rushing towards the table, apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry Mr. Nilgwis, the cook is finishing your food soon, and you'll have it in your hands in minutes, I promise." The words came out in a rush, and Maylin was confused over why she did that. Was Terkast normally mean? She guessed that Oliva took the foot tapping as impatience.

"Continue?" Worsol prompted, wiping his fingers on his pants.

"Ah, yes. Caddis was very outgoing, but very sarcastic. God, it was painful taking all of that from her. She'd die soon if it was all up to me. Joss was actually quite nice, and made a few jokes I laughed at. Maybe I'll tell you some of them later. Frankie was nothing at all, too quiet. Corson was also quiet, but as in an 'I'm afraid of you' way, so he's still hidden to me," Terkast said. Most of the words were a rush, but in-between a few there were slight pauses, as if he was searching for the right words to say. "Linea was also quiet, but instead of the other two, she didn't give any of her emotions away. I swear, I get more quiet tributes than anything else. It's boring."

Oliva arrived with the dishes, bringing with her a delicious meaty scent. She placed each dish expertly in front of each person, even leaving behind her distaste of Marielle for the moment. "Wolf is… odd… for a boy. He kept talking, and in a high pitched voice. He doesn't seem like he can do much." Terkast waited until Oliva left, because the girl was listening in attentively, to continue. He dug into his lamb stew, blowing on the spoon filled with the viscous stew. "Harley I liked because she was very spunky. And Gyton seemed a suck up, as if he wanted something from me. Not a normal District Seven tribbie, he seemed more buff and Career-like."

Maylin tore her eyes from Terkast, and looked at the plate in front of her. The brothers were more than halfway through with their meals, yet she hadn't touched hers. It was a delicate, off-white flaky pastry covered in a thick dark red raspberry jam. She lifted it to her mouth, and took a bite. She chewed slowly, wincing as the seeds caught between her teeth. With a swift flick of her head, the food bypassed the void her tongue left, and entered her throat, where she swallowed. It was delicious!

With a guilty feeling, Maylin noticed Worsol was talking about his tributes. He described Brenda as happy, a flirt, and very competitive, while Tristan was a goof. "Overall," he said, the words barely getting out of his stuffed mouth, "the train rides were fun. We played games and ate good food."

Terkast nodded once more. "Tristan said he could do something nobody else could?" he prompted, which Worsol returned with a sly smile and a furious head shake. Kornicu laughed, and patted Terkast's shoulder sympathetically.

"Anyway," Terkast started in annoyance, his stew forgotten in the middle of the table, "Arrett wasn't much of a talker, and kept pausing. I think he's nervous or something. He's only twelve – believe me, he isn't going to last long. Kacey was… angry. I guess that's the only way to describe it." He paused while everyone laughed, finding his stew once more and taking a spoonful.

"Indas was very family-orientated, and believe me, did he have a big head! Livianna was very happy and bubbly, she seemed to love the attention I gave her," Terkast said. He took a deep breath, and then finished the rest of the tributes. "Virgo was nothing special, quiet like the rest of them. Sheave was big and bulky too, but not in a Career way. He was quiet, but very intimidating instead of meek."

Kornicu finished his mincemeat pie with a flourish, and dapped his chin with his napkin. "That's all well and good, Terkast, but tell us the most important thing," he said, making Terkast lean in with curiosity. "What were they all wearing? The Chariot Rides, I mean."

Worsol laughed, and added that he would also like to know. Terkast shook his head, and pushed his stew away with finality. Oliva came and took their plates, including Maylin's mostly eaten tart. She bowed slightly to them, without asking if they wanted anything else. The three brothers got up from their chairs, and Maylin followed.

"You'll have to find out in about… oh, about two hours," Terkast said, checking his watch. Maylin started. It had taken them two and a half hours to eat? She peeked outside the door they were exiting, and saw that it had nearly fallen towards dusk. The surprise coated her face, but she tried to cover it.

Kornicu and Worsol parted them after the train ride, saying that they shall see their brother soon. Terkast lead Maylin towards the Gamemaker building, explaining that after he set up, they would watch the Chariot Rides. He seemed much happier than before.

**A/N: Forgive me for the boringness of this filler chapter. I wanted you to know a bit more about the tributes, since we don't get to see them close up in their own POV. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: To the Chariot Rides!**

Terkast sat down in his large comfy chair, turning on each of the TV screens as he went. Maylin followed after him, shutting the heavy door quietly. She took up her customary seat to his right, in the less comfortable and gilded chair.

"One hour to the Chariots!" Terkast said in a sing-songy voice. His words were slightly drowned out by the large bust of static as each television produced a portion of the arena. Maylin smiled at him, as if he was a child that she cared for. Being from the Districts, she realized that she was much older, at eighteen, than a fully grown Capitolite.

"Come look, Maylin," he said excitedly, pointing to his masterpiece. True to his previous words, it was circular, with 12 wedges. She saw a dirt streaked grass area, with a few broken down statues and gasped. Terkast smiled, and pointed directly to it. "District Six. It's your _Park_; the place you all go on nice days to picnic and have fun. Corson and Frankie'll have fun with that, huh?"

Maylin forced a smile and nodded. She hadn't seen the Park in at least four years, since she'd become an Avox. It was like a punch to the gut to see her childhood perfectly laid out in front of her. Maylin was suddenly flooded with memories from home.

The Head Gamemaker knew that this would happen, but talked over it. He hoped she would hear some of this, because her District had some chance of winning this year – much more than the Careers.

"The tributes'll be lifted onto the arena, and they'll be in random Districts. And then, they'll each have a pack right in front of them, containing some bread, water, and bandages. And a piece of paper and a writing utensil," he said. "Maybe something else for survival if Nikolai wants it," Terkast added, still trying to get Maylin's attention.

Judging by the tears swelling in her eyes, he knew that she'd be unresponsive for a few minutes yet. He switched the TVs to the Capital station, and watched the preparation of the Chariot Rides. The horses were being groomed, and each of the unique chariots was being polished by Avoxes. He hoped for a good ride this year, and wondered how the stylists were to make their tributes act.

His fingers alighted on the telephone, and picked it up swiftly. With a push of the 4 button, Terkast was connected, and listening to the rings. "Hurley; Kitchen," a lower voice said, sounding bored.

"Hello Hurley," Terkast greeted, and the other man let out a small surprised noise. "Would you mind to send up a few delicacies for me? My Avox and I are getting hungry."

Hurley shouted a few incomprehensible things to his servants, and told Terkast that it'd be ready in two minutes or less. The Head Gamemaker thanked the Head Chef, and turned back to Maylin.

She was sniffling, but wiping her eyes furiously. "Ready to continue?" Terkast asked with care. Maylin nodded, her eyes puffy and a tear still coursed down her left cheek.

"Good," he said, taking a deep breath to continue. He didn't know that it would force such an unhappy reaction on her, just a smaller one. Truly, he felt slight regret. "They'll be raised up, and have a pack immediately in front of them. For later use, or right then if they find it, 20 paces to the North, South, East and West will be supplies. To the North, there'll be weapons they can't use, but weapons nonetheless. East will be food, while West smaller medicinal items like bandages or fever-pills. To the South is more interesting. It'll have," Terkast paused for effect, and to make sure that Maylin was still listening, "the weapon they're best at."

Maylin nodded, paying attention greatly. There had to be supplies, because there was no legit Cornucopia. From what she learned, the Capital didn't like when the tributes starved, so there had to be some type of supplies.

Terkast held up his pointer finger in a waiting gesture. "Now wait," he said, confirming Maylin's belief, "the supplies won't be that easy to come by. They'll be hidden in places that'd take a smart tribute to find out. Plus, I guess it'd be hard for the Careers to go on a killing spree if they can't find it!" He gave a very large smile then, showing off his teeth.

A knock sounded on the door, making the Avox jump. Terkast had been prepared for it, though, and got up to swiftly open it. Two Avoxes, both of which he knew well, placed two dishes upon the desk and left.

Maylin looked at the food, and then glanced at the swiftly leaving Avoxes with regret. Terkast sat down and ladled a small bowl of orange soup into a porcelain bowl. He handed it to Maylin before grabbing himself one and a halved tomato covered in salt and basil leaves.

He took a bite, and looked towards the screen, where the announcers, Charmain Dinkleberg and Etta Seedra, talked animatedly. Some gossip on how District Twelve didn't have any good costumes because their stylist was dim-witted. "They'll go naked for the fourth year in a row!" Charmain laughed giddily.

Terkast snorted. "They're not," he whispered to Maylin, "it's quite a nice outfit that Hedge and Lampey created. But it's all Lampey's idea – Hedge is an idiot. Don't know how he became a stylist."

A digital clock in the bottom left handed corner showed that there was three minutes until the Chariots started. It crept closer with alarming speed, although it was really only regular time. Maylin took a silver spoon, and dipped it in. She pulled up a large spoonful, and quickly dripped it down her throat. It scalded slightly, but held a delicious fruity taste nevertheless.

The clock ticked down, and when it hit zero, an annoying buzz droned from the TVs. "Chariot time!" Terkast exclaimed, and turned the screens up. Charmain and Etta had stopped talking about trivial things, and began to announce stylists.

"District One, dear Capital viewers, was designed by Annaliesia Cortes and Mykayla Nox. The tributes are Cree Sooke and Jet Vermeil," Charmain announced, and the little box over her shoulder grew larger. In the box was a shot of the tributes in their chariot, and it grew to fill the screen. It showed Cree dressed in pure white, with large wings on her back, covered in pearls. She had on a forced smile, and waved occasionally. Jet was the exact opposite, dressed in a pure black suit with his face darkened. Around his eyes was shaded red, so he looked like an evil demon. "Perfect harmony in differences there!" Charmain observed, nodding to Etta.

As soon as the picture popped up, District Two came. Their horses were a light gray, and Floyd and Tamara sat stonily inside. Tamara tried waving a few times, but Floyd always moved his hand to stop her. He was dressed in a Peacekeeper's white uniform, with the dark black military boots of the Capital and a realistic plastic gun. Tamara was dressed in a female uniform, that was cut low in the chest to reveal some of her cleavage, and the jumper pants had been cut shorter, too. "Tamara Lively and Floyd Barabe, designed by Sucko Gracko and Lin Shapa."

Without even cutting to the announcers, District Three rushed out of the starting area. They were both wearing very revealing outfits. Wires encircled every part of their bodies, but it was easy to see the skin underneath. The only place it was thick was around their private areas – close to naked, but not exactly. "Marielle Bernstein and Asher Decon, made by Trinko Drae and Kuzon Stitch."

"They're wonderful, aren't they?" Terkast asked, ripping his eyes from the screen to take another spoonful of soup. Maylin nodded, enchanted by the show. This was the first year she was able to watch it; usually she was down in the stables, giving the escorts and mentors what they needed.

"Now for District Four, Caddis Tipper and Joss Summers," Charmain said, her light blue eyes wide with excitement. It showed the two, dressed as mighty Greek figures. "Remember, people, these wonderful costumes were made by Nevil Lumos and Cruka Catte," Charmain stated in a voice over. Joss was the God of the Ocean, Poseidon, while Caddis was his wife, Amphitrite. It was a nice costume, but funny in a way, especially since Joss was wearing a thick white beard.

Terkast chuckled to himself, and spooned more soup in his mouth. The District Five tributes had on dark material that wasn't very revealing, and covered in shiny computer parts. "Expelun Grep and Hund Arous created the costumes Frankie Heathome and Corson Livingston are wearing," Etta said, sounding bored.

Maylin tentatively took an orange and unpeeled it as she watched the District Six tributes arrive on their eccentric chariot. "Linea Navy and Wolf Spanes in the wonderful costumes by Skud Dilun and Toff Gilligan," Etta drawled, sarcasm dripping from each word. The two were dressed as large light bulbs that lighted up a light tan color, but slowly dimmed to dark brown. Maylin thought that the bulbs were like the Mood Rings that all children had. If so, they were quite nervous and scared.

She placed it in her mouth, and it burst open in a frenzy of juice. She listened in happily as District Seven was announced, the costumes made by Avis Connelly and Scruge Pauloss. She nearly laughed out loud as the brown horses came into view, dragging along the two not so happy tributes. "Harley Wiskon and Gyton Howell," Charmain giggled, clearly amused.

The two were stuck together in one costume, and they were a stack of chopped logs. Each only had one arm, and their faces were painted dark brown, covering their frowns. What a horrible way to be shown to the entire nation!

"District Eight is Lavinia Desperte and Vesture Buchannon. They were designed by Wasi Lax and Huplah Nobun." The two were being dragged by two pinto horses, and wore tight clothes made entirely from scraps. It was sewn together well, and had patches of Peacekeeper uniforms and Capitol dresses. They looked like a well-made quilt that her grandmother had once knitted.

"Trecko Ietus and Redu Farrow made the District Nine tribute's costumes. They're Brenda McArthy and Tristan Workle," Etta said in a voice over.

They were dressed in hunting gear, bows clenched tightly in their hands. Brenda wore tight camouflage shorts and tank top, while Tristan wore a pure dark brown outfit. They seemed comfortable, and waved with big smiles plastered on their face.

District Ten rode on a light green chariot, forcefully trying to be happy. The two young tributes didn't wear as revealing costumes, but it was still enjoyable. They were dressed as horses, but it looked nice. Kacey was in a light brown dress, and Arrett a gray roan suit. Both had questionable horse's ears, and carrots in their hand, but it was interesting to see them copy the horses pulling their chariot.

"Those young tributes were Kacey Fickus and Arrett Hayes, and their… uh…_ interesting_ costumes by Illumin Prior and Bellat Ukul," Etta said, and you could hear some laughter in the background. Maylin looked shameful, she thought the costumes were nice.

But she laughed as District Eleven came out, making Terkast look at her before he laughed. District Eleven were wearing dark green costumes that covered their whole bodies. On Livianna's head and hands were big red circular blobs, while Indas had longer, oval shaped yellow blobs. "This is Livianna… Chayro and… Indas Uctabel," Etta said, giggling during the pauses. "Dug Pewe and Corol Nickli created those."

"Now, we see what District Twelve is wearing, right Etta?" Charmain asked, the shot finally on her. Her shoulders shook in concealed laughter, and she looked towards the screen in the corner.

The pure black horses cantered swiftly, bringing with them a big chariot. The two were naked, but coal covered every ounce of their body. Unlike District Three, no skin could be seen. Even their face was covered; the only thing that was uncovered was their eyes, which shone like gems.

"Huh, not what I was expecting, Charmain," Etta countered as the chariots lined up in front of President Welch's mansion. "Those two were Virgo Irving and Sheave Trackman. Their costumes were much better than the previous years, made by Hedge Fores and Lampey Gump. Now let's got to the President for his speech."

President Welch appeared on the fourth floor balcony, and coughed twice before starting his speech. The speech had been used since the first days of the Hunger Games, and it was starting to get boring. Terkast turned to the food then, taking a few devilled ducks eggs in his hands.

He took a bite, and glanced casually at Maylin. She still had her eyes glued to the screen, but that was probably because she hadn't heard his speech for years. As a child, she never really paid attention to it, and she hadn't been able to hear it as an Avox. Terkast screwed up his face. It was really a 'rags to riches' story with her – from the lowest of Avoxes to the Head Gamemaker's personal Avox. He might even take her into retirement with her. No more really hard work!

The President was in the middle of the speech, and Terkast turned his thoughts to him. The President had done everything by himself – instead of being a figurehead like President Dowry. And everyone was happy with his rule, even the Districts. It was said that the quality of life was much better than before.

"-is the symbolism of the Chariot Rides," Welsh finished, and tapped the ends of his papers against the podium. He curtly nodded his head, signaling the end of the Chariot Rides. He walked back into his mansion, and the chariots sped off.

"There we go; we're done," Terkast muttered, turning off the screens. Maylin rubbed her eyes tiredly. They were still red, and she'd had a long day. "There are four more days until the Games, let's get some rest."

He gently pulled Maylin up to standing position, and shuffled after her. He locked the doors with his handprint, and went into the elevator. He pressed two buttons and they waited together. Each got off on their floor - Maylin to F37 and Terkast to K1 - for some sleep.

**A/N: Approximately 3 chapters until the Games!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Update! Enjoy. **

The next day was boring. There was nothing to do, as all of the tributes were training for their Games. Traditionally, Terkast wouldn't see them until they showed off their skills at the Private Training Sessions, but rules were meant to be broken, right?

He tapped his pen against his desk, creating an annoying noise that resounded through the entire room. He hated these days the most, as there was nothing to do other than admire his arena. Maybe he should move the annual luncheon with his brothers to one of these days? It would make much more sense.

"Ah, but this is my last year!" Terkast exclaimed, making Maylin jump. She had been dozing off in the chair to his right, trying to ignore the tapping. She sat bolt upright and glanced at the Head Gamemaker as if he had three heads, before settling down once more.

He pressed certain knobs, and watched as the channel flickered many times. Terkast watched as the High Noon Show with Carthrige Jimison passed, and heaved a sigh of impatience. Not even the televisions were showing anything interesting.

On most of the channels there was commentary or replays of last night. Most of the Capitolites would be finishing up their jobs or school so that they could laze about during the Games, and never take their eyes off the action. And the Districts would be working now. Therefore, there was no good reason to have on anything interesting.

He resumed his tapping, thinking hard. Of course, Terkast could sneak to the Training Center, and get a good peek at the tributes. He got a good guess of what they did during his personal conversations, but he just wanted to make sure. Plus, Nikolai would be watching them carefully, so he could decide what their best weapon was.

"Come on, Maylin," he announced, getting up from his chair with a flourish. She looked at him with confusion before standing, knowing that she was forced to go where he was going. "We're off to the Training Center!"

He over-exaggerated all of his gestures, making Maylin roll her eyes at him. Terkast was clearly excited, as if he couldn't bear to be trapped in his office for the next two days.

The door shut with a beep, and Terkast nearly dragged the Avox to the elevator. He was humming a simple tune, although he didn't know where he picked it up. Maylin caught her feet halfway through, and stumbled along after him.

She braced herself for the elevator, and closed her eyes. With a click, the doors shut and the elevator was off. Maylin tried hard to quell the bile rising in her throat, knowing that it wouldn't do anything but give a mess that needed to be cleaned up.

It dinged, and Terkast nearly dashed out, the tune he was humming becoming faster paced. "Come on, come on," he muttered to Maylin, who followed him. On the street, their pace slowed so that the two were walking normally. Still, the Head Gamemaker's tune was quick, as if he wanted to run.

"Terkast, m'dear!" An elderly lady shouted from across the street. He huffed, but slowed down enough so that she could shuffle next to him. Maylin was pushed behind them, but she didn't care. To this eccentric Capitolite woman, she was nearly invisible. At least from this vantage point, she could hear all the words.

"I heard Charmain talking about your arena and everythin' else," she said. From the back, Maylin examined her golden hair that seemed as thin as thread. "Are the rumors true? I hope so," the lady nearly squealed, bunching her hands into fists. The Avox wrinkled her nose at the old lady acting much younger than she really was. "I personally liked the computer arena."

Terkast sighed quietly, and the lady didn't notice. The three of them were moving along at a snail's pace, and Maylin could see the Head Gamemaker glance often at the Training Center that was still far away.

"What rumors have been going around about the arena, Rella?" Terkast asked, not even sounding mildly interested. He began walking faster, making Rella try to catch up with him.

"Well, Charmain has been going on and on about a desert. Now, that's all fine and everythin', but I think it's too dry, especially if there's no Cornucopia. But my son, and I think this is much more interesting, says that it's going to be a graveyard. Henrique says that the dead tributes will come back alive as those dead-things and hunt down the live tributes. But of course they can't win 'cause they're dead. What are they called again? I think zorfies, no maybe zamties? I don't know, it starts with 'z' though," Rella rambled. Terkast had been nodding his head methodically, his eyes focused on the Training Center.

"And then there's rumors going around about what the actual Quell is!" Rella continued, and Maylin would tell her to shut up, if she could. "I say it's that there are going to be replacements for the tributes. Which would make the zorfies idea a lot better! Imagine a mother being attacked by her own dead child! Why, that would make the Games much more interesting," Rella continued. "Or, how about the tributes get –"

"I'm sorry, Rella," Terkast said, although not sincerely, "but there's the Training Center. Maylin and I must leave now."

The old woman looked around, and finally spied the Avox behind them. "Maylin?" she asked, and she nodded. Rella had a few wrinkles around her eyes, but the skin was sagging. She waited for the old woman to turn around before fake retching. Although nobody saw it, it made Maylin feel better.

"Great, I was talking to you and I missed my building. Have a nice day," Rella said, before shuffling off in the opposite direction.

Terkast sighed, and wiped his brow. The doors opened automatically for them, and they stepped inside. It was drastically cooler than it was outside, and felt good against her skin.

"Come on," he said simply, the excitement starting to creep back into his voice. He passed a few people and nodded his head in greeting. The people nodded back, but Terkast didn't pay any more attention to them.

He started humming the tune again, and stepped onto the nice golden carpet. The elevator arrived after a few presses of the 'up' button. Maylin looked at Terkast in confusion, but he ignored her too, which was odd. Since she didn't have a voice, her expressions were the way she communicated to her.

"We're going up to 97 I. There's this secret I found out about, and I'm going to utilize it after… 20 years? Yeah, 20 years. Found it my second year after becoming a Gamemaker," he murmured, getting off at 97 I. It wasn't as bad as a ride as the normal elevators.

The carpet was a dark maroon up here, and smelled old and musty. His humming died out as he led Maylin to an older door halfway up the hallway. "This floor used to be Arena Designing, but it was moved down once 'Firearm Use' was taken away. So now nobody uses it. But it was taken down a while ago, so there are no cameras," Terkast explained. Still, he looked both ways before opening the decrepit door with a loud creak.

He motioned for Maylin to go in first, and then Terkast joined her after shutting the door carefully. "I'll go first," he whispered. He stepped forward, and soon he dropped a little. Maylin was confused until the Head Gamemaker continued to drop, meaning that there were stairs. "It's ok, you can come too."

She followed him down the stairs, placing each foot carefully on the solid stone before fully putting her weight down. The darkness was getting to her, and the thought of falling down the stairs to her doom loomed high in her thoughts.

Maylin stepped a bit too far forward, and flailed as half her foot missed the stone step. She grasped wildly for something in the dark, and finally settled on an old, rusty handrail. "You ok?" Terkast asked his voice much farther down the staircase. "There isn't much left to go."

She let go as the rail groaned, and set forward at a faster pace. Maylin must make it soon, and not spend another moment in this dark, confining space.

Terkast was waiting below, his hand on another doorknob. With a grunt, he pulled it open and stepped inside the small, rectangular room. There was dark glass on the other side of the room, and Maylin walked towards it, looking through it curiously.

To her surprise, down below, were all the stations and the tributes. She raised her eyebrows, and Terkast came to explain. "The Training Center is a large room, and at the top, near the ceiling, is a bunch of black glass. We can see through it, but to them it's only glass."

Maylin wasn't really listening to him, but truly was watching the tributes below. The only other chance she had gotten this close to them was during the Chariot Rides when she helped in the stables.

She saw a tiny redhead boy working with poisonous plants and seeming to have a bunch of trouble. A big group, the Careers, was lounging about at the sword station, watching a big burly man dice the dummies to pieces.

"See, there's Cree over there," he pointed to Cree, who was working on a knife station. Jet was working on knots. Both of the District One tributes weren't in the Career pack, which surprised Maylin. Usually all the tributes from One, Two and Four were in them.

The Career pack got up, and followed a confident looking ginger to the tridents. "There are Floyd, Tamara, Caddis and Joss," Terkast said, pointing out the individuals. The District Two tributes looked bored, but Joss joined Caddis and they both threw with surprising accuracy. Caddis turned to Joss, and they laughed over something, while Tamara and Floyd looked sour.

"The only downfall of this place is that you can't hear what they're saying. Most Careers discuss strategies, and some tributes even talk to themselves," Terkast said, his nose nearly pressed to the glass he was that close.

A line was forming at the trap station. Most of those tributes looked very young, and didn't have any muscles compared to the Careers. Terkast pointed to each of the tiny figures, and said names. "That's Frankie, Asher and Wolf. Of course, I was expecting them to be good at traps. They just look the part."

Maylin nodded, and scanned the other stations. There were two people on the knot-tying station, and she pointed them out silently. Terkast looked quickly, before saying, "Brenda and Tristan." He went back to watching the Careers, who were still goofing off at the tridents.

The small ginger that Maylin saw before had shadowed the Careers, and went to the sword station. He swung wildly, the weapon much too heavy for him. He looked comical after the brute skill of Floyd. "Arrett Hayes," Terkast mumbled, "He and Wolf are the only 12-year-olds. If there was a bloodbath, they'd be dead first. I doubt they will last long, anyway."

The two District Twelve tributes went to the Edible Plants station, which was now deserted. Virgo was talking animatedly to Sheave, and explained each plant individually. Sheave nodded and, even from a distance, Maylin could see he was clearly bored. If she was a tribute, she'd be paying attention. One could never be so careful with poisonous plants.

Livianna was talking happily to the girl from District Eight, Laviana, who wasn't really paying attention. She was glancing so often at Joss and the guy from District Five. She glanced once at Livianna, and then threw a spear, which missed by several inches.

Near the fire building station, a few more tributes gathered. "Corson, Kacey and Linea," Terkast said, keeping his voice low.

Maylin realized that she had gotten a better look at all the tributes and what they could do than just in the Games. She wondered which tributes were putting up a false front, and which showed al their skills to their enemies.

She stifled a giggle, and pointed to a guy trying to join the Careers. He looked very nice, with black hair and a winning smile. He talked fast to them, and waved his arms a lot. Floyd looked at the smaller, although not so much compared to the others, and laughed. "What is Gyton doing?" Terkast murmured angrily. "He's clearly not from a Career district…"

His District Partner looked on furiously from the axe station as the Careers conversed amongst themselves. He gave her the thumbs up and a smile as Joss waved him over. "Harley should be mad. Although, there won't be any Career pack this year, so he's being stupid."

She ripped her eyes away from the monstrosity, and looked at the large man who was working with knife throwing. She remembered him, like so few others, from the Reapings. His name was Indas, and his knife throwing needed some work. Vesture watched from afar, seemingly afraid to go up and work with the clearly larger tribute.

This was like watching the ant farms in her childhood class back home. The tributes went along with what they were doing, unaware that they were being watched. They continued on, oblivious except for their mundane jobs and tasks.

Maylin glanced about once more, trying to find any tributes that she didn't see before. There! The one tribute that she didn't tick off her list was at the puzzles station, biting her lip as she moved the pieces together.

"You've seen them all?" Terkast whispered frantically, and Maylin nodded. "We're going to be missed soon; we have to leave now to get back on time. If anyone asks, we were at a restaurant, ok?"

He led her up the stairs, and Maylin was consumed by the darkness. She walked faster than she did before, eager to escape and breathe clean air again. When she reached the door, she opened it a little. Terkast pushed passed her, and peeked his head out. When it was all clear, he waved his hand forward, and she followed.

Terkast walked nonchalant down the old hallways, and Maylin followed. She looked around, and saw that the dark brown wallpaper had faded, and was beginning to peel in places.

"Come, Maylin," Terkast said, and the elevator came rumbling up. "Here we go, back to our room. Nothing ever happened here. We'll see them all tomorrow and what they can really do, though."

They got out at the bottom level, and thanked the people near it. "I think that the escorts need some more food in their Lounge," he told the assistant, who nodded.

They walked along the street, Terkast whistling the tune from before. "See, nothing happened."

**A/N: Here's the update I promised. Two more chapters until the Games, I'm sure we're all excited.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Update! As always, enjoy!**

It was the final day of training, and Terkast was calmer than he was the first two. He took Maylin up to the older part of the building once more yesterday to spy on the tributes. The amount of stress was nearly killing her, but it was fun to live on the wild side. As a girl back in District 6, she did nothing out of the ordinary, and now she threw that away.

"Come, come," Terkast muttered as he bustled around his office. The neatly stacked papers were in random places amongst the desk, for he had just ruffled through them. He opened the door hastily, a notebook clutched tightly in his hands.

"We're late," he said to himself as he power-walked through the halls. The Head Gamemaker jabbed the 'down' button with much more force than was necessary, upset at the lack of leisure time.

The elevator zipped up, and Maylin was ushered in by Terkast, who was still muttering. The doors closed with a 'bing' and Maylin closed her eyes, listening to Terkast with a small smile.

"They knew today was the Final Training! Why would they send me the report on the arena and demand that it be done by today? Why?" The Gamemaker threw his hands in the air. "I have no time at night, and not nearly enough in the morning. I swear, if this wasn't my last year, _I'd quit._" He said the last part vehemently, as if it was the worst insult one could offer.

The doors opened up, and Terkast swiftly walked out the doors and into the street. Maylin tagged behind him, her thoughts wandering as she watched his back. "And the buildings are so far apart! If they had _any_ sense, why they'd… make them closer!"

The blocks passed quickly, for Terkast nearly ran there. The doors were opened, and a guard politely said good afternoon to the pair. "Yes, yes. Get us up to the Training Room, stat," Terkast snapped, breathing heavily.

Taken aback, the guard hesitated for a second, but was set into motion by the Gamemaker's snaps of impatience. "Yes, sir. Follow me." Many sounds were coming from around them, but the guard waded through them, creating an entourage. Rattling predicted the arrival of the elevator, and they both got in. "Have a nice day, sir," the guard said, and Terkast managed a weak smile this time.

"I'm going to rip my hair out. I _hate_ Quells. Why, they're mighty interesting, but to organize them? Bah!" Terkast was once more muttering to himself.

Earthy browns greeted Maylin as she exited on the Training Center floor. This was the room the tributes waited in before they performed. It was probably brown to ease their troubles.

She'd never been on this floor before. Usually she was stuck on the District Floors, where she'd cater to the tributes. To think of it, she'd only really catered to District Ten and Seven.

A wide open room waited behind two doors, which was filled with deadly weapons. "'Bout time," someone muttered. However, when Terkast looked closer, his subordinates looked innocent and occupied.

An Avox – the same Avox Maylin saw in the elevator the other day – pulled out the center chair for Terkast. "You'll stand behind me," he whispered to her as he sat down.

"Terkast," Juniper Telle said, drawing he papers closer to her, "the tributes will be in within five minutes. Jet will start it off. Was there anyone in the Waiting Room?"

The Head Gamemaker shook his head in response. He was too busy with his notebook to fully notice his Second in Command.

A door slammed in the next room. "That would be District One, most likely," Baheera muttered, and pressed a silver button on the table in front of him. Terkast shot the Gamemaker a dirty look, for an identical button in front of him blazed orange.

"_I_ press the buttons," he said curtly, before pressing a green one. What happened next surprised Maylin. A shimmery wall seemed to fall from the ceiling, but disappeared seconds later. She could tell from a faint hum that the force field was still there, just invisible.

"Jet Vermeil," Juniper read out, and Terkast pressed a light green button. The locks on the entrance doors snapped open, and Jet stepped casually inside with a grin. "Show us what you got, kid," a Gamemaker down the line said.

The boy inclined his head slightly, and then proceeded to a rope in the center of the room. He was soon at the top, and touched it lightly before he was off on the floor once more. The strangest thing about his performance was that his footsteps didn't make a sound.

Jet brushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes, and quickly separated poisonous plants from edible ones, and then ran towards the Close Combat rack. He picked up a short, jade blade and began hacking pieces off a dummy. The blows weren't necessarily precise, but each swing took an enormous chunk out of the dummy.

He decapitated it with a final blow, then laid his weapon on the floor. Jet calmly walked back to the panel, and inclined his head once more. "That was quick," Terkast muttered to himself, scribbling furiously in his notebook. "You may leave," he said louder, waving his hand in dismissal. Jet left with swagger in his step, as if he did the best in the world.

"What was that weapon?" someone down the table whispered, which was quickly answered by a harsh "That was a mere. It's been here longer than you, how could you not know what it was?"

The first speaker muttered incomprehensible words into their goblet, and it was then Terkast realized that there was food in front of him. It was just starters, like a heavy plum stew and lighter, creamier corn chowder. He took a small bowl, and pressed the unlocking button once more.

"Cree Sooke," Juniper read once more, and the girl stepped lightly into the room. The contrast between her and other District One females was startling, as she was clearly the opposite of their light hair and eyes.

"Begin," Baheera said, his spoon in his hand. Cree didn't even acknowledge the Gamemakers ahead of her, but went straight to the Close Combat rack, like Jet. She grabbed a few tomahawks off the shelf, and began swinging them in a tight-knit circle. Pieces of foam from the dummy flew off, but the weapons moved so fast that they were just blurs.

She then took the two she had, and proceeded to the Range, where multiple targets were set up at varying distances. With a sharp flick of her wrist, Cree launched the tomahawk, and it landed blade down in the center of the deep wood.

A brief smile flickered on her lips before she chose the farthest target. The District One tribute took a deep breath, and with a motion much like before, she flung it. This one also landed in the center, with a satisfying thump.

The seconds were ticking by, but nobody seemed to notice as Cree held their attention. She sprinted a few laps around the room, and was then dismissed by Terkast. "Get an Avox to clean that up," he said, barely paying attention.

A swarm of the tongue less servants busied the field, taking away old dummies and replacing them with new. One took time in dislodging the imbedded tomahawks, but it was all done within a minute.

"Floyd Barabe," Juniper said, her papers shuffling. The boy was sturdy, and smiling pleasantly at the panel in front of him. He went forward at Terkast's wave, and scoured the room. It wasn't terribly interesting, Terkast thought as he helped himself to some bread.

Floyd was a typical District Two male. He threw some heavy things across the room, and hacked up the replaced dummies with a cruel blade. "You're dismissed," Terkast said, and wrote small words on his paper. The bread from District Ten, Terkast decided, was clearly superior. It had chunks of meat in it!

Juniper said another name, but Terkast missed it in his decision of the bread. The girl gestured forward the Hand-to-Hand expert, and then started an interesting fight. Tamara included street fighting moves, and seemed to draw enjoyment from setting up the expert, only to have him fail in the end.

"Finish it up, you're time's almost up," grumbled a Gamemaker, and with a flourish, Tamara punched the expert in the face. He stumbled, and she swiped his legs out from underneath him. "You're good," the same man rumbled, and Tamara left with a sneer.

"Erm, this one's Asher Decon, from District Three." The boy was smaller, and looked geeky, even to Maylin's District Five standards.

Asher looked up to the panel, and waited for the signal. When Terkast gave it, he headed over, and constructed a simple noose with several attachments. "Can you… uh, let something, I don't know… go? I want… to show you my, uh, trap."

Baheera nodded, and snapped his fingers. A light brown doe stepped forward from a metal cage near the edge of the room. She treaded lightly, and headed straight for the noose laid on the ground, completely oblivious. One fatal step, and she was hoisted into the air, and her beautiful, innocent head rolled across the ground.

Maylin gasped, but Terkast nodded appreciatively. It was a nice trap. "Marielle Bernstein." She had curly hair, and an overall sweet face. The Servant Avoxes brought several large pheasants that were roasted, and smelled delicious. His mouth watered at the scent.

Marielle did nothing much, but went to the table and carefully picked out some edible plants. She even showed her daring by tasting those she deemed safe. But it wasn't interesting, and he didn't write much for her.

The District Four tribute, who Juniper introduced as Joss Summers, walked in very confident and happy. Terkast happily watched him while chewing his pheasant. Joss expertly threw the tridents through each of the dummies heads, and also threw spears.

He was dismissed, and Terkast picked up his notebook once more. "Goo' at losh ov wepunz," he muttered, the pheasant sticking in his mouth. Some spittle and chewed meat flew out as he wrote it down.

Caddis Tipper also walked in confidently, and did almost exactly what Joss did. This was the point where it got boring. District One and Two focused mainly on swords and hand-to-hand, but each was different. District Three was interesting because it was the first one that used traps. District Four used tridents and spears, and it got annoying after a while. There was nothing truly great about anything after District Four.

Corson Livington created a trap much like Asher, except it added a trace amount of fire, so it charred his doe. He looked very proud as the trap went off, and it amazed Terkast that he could create a trap like that in such few time.

"Frankie Heathome," Juniper read out, and a small girl shuffled in. She parted her hair for a second, and waited for a signal. When Terkast gave her the go, she shuffled over to the traps that were just cleaned up, and built one of her own. However, it was a messy one, and didn't even catch the doe. Frankie began to cry as the doe leapt away in fright.

"Oh, they've gotten the roasted tiger. I've always loved that exotic flavor of the big cat," Baheera muttered, paying more attention to the large plate of sliced meat. Wolf Spanes was a 12-year-old who gave a weak smile to the panel. They weren't really paying attention to him, though.

The child created a small trap, but Terkast eyed the pumpkin juice that was brought in. Wolf was only twelve, it's not like he could do much with them, anyway. Terkast's suspicions were confirmed as the doe that escaped Frankie was captured, but not given a bloody death.

"Very nice, very nice," Terkast said, dismissing the boy. Wolf looked disappointed, but left without complaint.

"Linea Navy," was a small girl, who gave a winning smile. As the tributes went on, they tried more tactics to get the Gamemakers to like them. She went to the rope in the center of the room, and swiftly climbed the rope. Then, she grabbed some spears and threw them through the hearts of all the dummies. She was soon dismissed, and Terkast stretched out in his chair.

It had already been an hour and a half, and they were only halfway done. This was certainly the worst part about it – having to watch the children perform.

"Time for a break," he said, his voice sounding croaky. "Now, the scores for the first twelve?"

"Jet Vermeil," Juniper said, and immediately an argument broke out. Some decided that he deserved a 9, while two others were saying 10. Terkast himself has written down 9, and slowly interjected that Jet would get a 10. Baheera grumbled to himself, but kept his words incomprehensible.

"Cree Sooke?" Unlike Jet, the District One female was nearly unanimous. She received an 11.

"Floyd Barabe," Juniper said. Most Gamemakers decided that he was a large Career, and deserved one of the biggest scores, but he wasn't very accurate. To his surprise, they figured it out on their own, and Floyd also received a 10.

"Tamara Lively," received a 9 after arguments. Terkast was beginning to believe they enjoyed being at each other's throats.

"Asher Decon," got a 6 for his efforts, and "Marielle Bernstein," a 4. District Three never did well during training. It was the stronger tributes who had something to show off.

Both of District Four got 9s, and Corson received an 8. However, Frankie was more on par with the usual for her district, and received a 2.

"Last but not least," Juniper stated, "Wolf Spanes." Many shouts of 'Three!' filled the room, and it was marked down on everyone's scorecard. "Linea Navy?" Linea got many shouts of all different numbers, but it was finally settled on a Four.

The Avoxes swarmed as they cleaned up the room to make it look brand new. "And we're only halfway through," Terkast muttered, daintily sipping his cup.

**A/N: I almost used ginormous, but I don't think that would be very professional. Expect an update soonish, as I'm going away for softball and school. I swear, I'm going to stab someone with a blunt spork. Have a nice day!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I seem to have lost my reviewers... sadness. I thank those who review, because you help me get the next chapters out, and you make me extremely happy. Thank you.  
**

Terkast smiled to himself as he placed the cup down on a coaster. The waiting tributes must think that Linea was taking forever. Of course, making them wait sharpened their skills, but also made them nervous.

An older Avox offered Terkast some wine, which he gladly accepted. To get through the next few hours, he would have to be a tad tipsy. It was the only way he could get through the boring presentation of skills, and make them somewhat interesting.

"Everyone ready?" he asked, looking down the length of the table in both directions. The Head Gamemaker was greeting with many nods. "Good." The green button was pressed once more, and Gyton Howell stepped through.

"Gyton Howell," Juniper called. This was the tribute that kept talking after the train rides, Terkast realized with a frown. Gyton said hello to the panel in front of him, and walked to the axes with a spring in his step.

It was much like Cree and her tomahawks. Gyton ran and sliced everything in reach, making the dummies nothing more than stuffing on the floor. Gyton then bowed, and Terkast could hear Juniper sigh.

Unlike the rest, Gyton waited until he was dismissed before he left. Shanna, one of the newer Gamemakers, turned to Juniper and laughed. "You like him, don't you?" Juniper's cheeks turned pink, but before she could reply, Terkast already pushed the button.

Harley Wiskon stepped in, a scowl on her face. "Wonder what bit her?" Cera said on Terkast's right, making the Head Gamemaker snort into his wine.

District Seven was always bad to watch, because they all did the same thing. Harley, like expected, went to the axes and grabbed a few. She made a few practice swings, and then started into her routine.

That's when Terkast lost his interest. He started playing with the gems on his silver cup, thinking trivial thoughts. The red gems are always to the left of the blue ones, but the blue ones aren't always on the right of the red. The yellow gem in the center of green and red is slightly loose. Gyton was an interesting character, he thought as he picked at the loose yellow gem. He would get a high score just because Juniper liked him. From his standing point, Gyton wasn't a bad looking person… coming from a District, that is.

Juniper gasped, making Terkast look up in surprise. Harley had stopped her practice swings, and began running through the field of dummies, precise swings decapitating every one. It was a clever combination – her speed and agility with her skills in axe handling. Terkast even managed a small smile as he writes down a number in her column. Very nice indeed.

The next to come is Vesture Buchanan, a stick of a boy with large eyes. This was the grandson of the renowned Growl Yates. He could tell just by the way Vesture carried himself, and the large light eyes. Growl won near 50 years ago by knife work. Terkast would love to see nothing more than Vesture to have the same mind and bloodlust as Growl.

"Begin," Terkast stated, actually paying attention for a portion. He had his doubts as Vesture came off the train, and during the Reapings. He had heard that Growl never settled down; never taken a wife. Of course, that was only the tabloids. He certainly had, and the evidence was right in front of Terkast.

Vesture walked slowly over, examining everything in front of him. He grabbed a knife, and called an expert forward. They fought briefly, the expert with a larger dagger and Vesture with his knife. The two clashed for a minute, before a simple mistake proved to be the tribute's downfall. The expert stopped then, but in the Games, it would've been Vesture's life.

Terkast frowned, and took a sip of his wine. Vesture had started out promising, but lost everything with that mediocre fight. He may be the grandson of Growl, but he inherited none of the talent.

"Lavinia Desperte," Juniper said, and Terkast pressed the button. Lavinia Desperte was called forward, and she started with a simple curtsy. Her clothing, although distinctly Capitolite, was very low-cut. It was as if she chose these clothes for a reason: to show off as much skin as possible.

She tried to hoist a sword, but it was too much for her. It unbalanced her, and she fell into a heap. Her skirt was blown up, and Terkast looked away in disgust before he could see anymore. He focused instead on the platter an Avox was bringing forward. It had delectable slices of meat on them. That was the tiger, and it was accompanied by a savory butter sauce.

Lavinia finished quickly, for it seemed she couldn't do anything. She was certain to get a low score.

With a press of the green button, Tristan Workle of Nine came in. He was… rather plain… and didn't stand out much. He sprinted the track a few times, and played around with one of the lesser known weapons – a boomerang. It wasn't interesting, and the food quickly overtook his performance. Tristan was dismissed rather hastily.

"Brenda McArthy" was next. Brenda was a sweet girl, with caramel hair and a flirty smile. She smiled through her entire performance, which wasn't out of the ordinary. She shot a few things with arrows from a nice mahogany bow. It showed her prowess in the art, but not much to make her stand out.

Terkast dismissed her with a wave, certain she would get an alright score. Six more tributes, and then they were done. Just six more.

Arrett Hayes from Ten was small, and couldn't hold a candle to the bigger tributes, like Floyd. Terkast remembered him from the Training. Arrett was very pathetic – he could barely shoot any of the targets.

Arrett picked up a sword to begin with, and had an entire pretend battle with a dummy. He parried well, but against a bigger tribute he would be cake. He made a move to go to the archery station, but Baheera stopped him before he could. "You're time's up. You can go now," the Gamemaker said. Arrett left the Training Center with a disappointed look on his face.

His District Partner was also young. Kacey Fickus walked in, and her face conveyed how nervous she was overall. Unlike Tristan, she grabbed a boomerang and used it expertly. It interested him somewhat, but the thought of leaving enticed Terkast so much more.

"You're good," Terkast said, and called in the next tribute. Four more and they were done. He could relax in his chair, next to his desk, and eat lobster. Or, perhaps, Baked Alaska. They truly needed a new name for that, because it was a tie into the years before Panem, no matter how small the tie.

"Indas Uctabel," Juniper called out. A hulking blonde boy stepped in, and Terkast could hear Shanna's barely audible gasp. She made fun of Juniper, and now here was someone to give the laughs right back to her.

The last two Districts varied greatly, but didn't interest him much. Indas surprised him, though, since the bulky boy ran quite fast to the weapons station. He picked a sickle, and combined skill with brute strength. The dummy didn't last long, as they were chopped to bits. He might actually live for some time in the arena. His strength could be his downfall though.

"Livianna Chayro," Juniper called. Terkast shook his head. Livianna, Lavinia, Linea… too many L names that sounded alike. It would be hard to keep track of them.

Livianna picked up a sickle, and lost Terkast with the action. "Boring," he muttered. He took more slices of the tiger, ladling the sauce on it. Big cat was such a delicacy. They should have it more often, instead of just at feasts and special treats for the Gamemakers. Of course, it helped that they weren't the most abundant animals.

Maybe he should be a big cat breeder when he was out of this place! It was such a good idea. He could breed them, and then there'd be more food for everyone.

"Sheave Trackman," Juniper said. Terkast grunted. He missed Livianna. It's not like she did anything much, though. He liked his tiger thoughts.

Sheave was most definitely from the Seam, or whatever they called it. He looked like most of the tributes that came from District Twelve, so that part must be the poorest. Sheave picked up a few of the heavier things, and easily flung them across the room. He picked up two dummies at once, and spun them. The cords in his neck stood out, but otherwise he made it seem effortless.

With most of the dummies away from their original spot, Sheave headed to the weapons. He picked up a heavy iron pick, and swung it. With a harsh grunt, Sheave brought it down with a swish onto a close dummy's head. If that were a real person, the skull would've been smashed wide open. A very painful death.

"You're time's up," Baheera said. Sheave nodded, and dropped the weapons where he was standing.

The last tribute. The last, Terkast thought as the Avoxes cleaned up. With the idea of Avox, Terkast remembered Maylin. She didn't move much during the entire thing, and was standing like a solemn sentinel at his back.

She smiled as she found Terkast's gaze, but continued to stand quietly. "Odd," he whispered, turning his attention to the last tribute.

"Virgo Irving," Juniper read off the sheet, and placed it down with a happy sigh. A tiny girl with the same look as Sheave came bouncing in. Her hair was in pigtails, and a radiant smile filled her face.

It was interesting enough to see her excitement, but she didn't do much. She picked out edible plants and ran around the track. Terkast brushed her off his mind, and focused on the food in front. It had been such a filling meal. He took an apple and polished it on his shirt, for it would be the perfect end to the dinner.

Virgo left, and the arguments began. Terkast didn't really participate, as the scores he wanted usually ended up correct. The only problem he had was with Harley. She should've gotten a higher score.

"We're all good here, right?" Terkast asked as he pushed his chair back. His napkin fell listlessly to the ground, and he set off.

A loud burp was let off, and Maylin tailed him closely. She had no clue where they were going, although it was probably right back to the control room. Terkast walked out the door, barely paying attention to her. He must have quite a lot on his mind. Usually she was like a soundboard – great for him to bounce ideas off of and to get things off his back, but couldn't answer back.

He entered the elevator, and waited for her. "So, you saw the performances. Did you like them?"

His question made Maylin smile, as it meant that he cared about her now to talk to her. Maylin shrugged, and Terkast took that as an acceptable response. In truth, she really didn't like them. The way they chopped up those dummies was scary. She never saw anything of the like in the Games, because usually they were fights, and nobody was just standing around in a large group.

The guard from before was still on duty, and this time Terkast smiled warmly at him. They then left without another word. Maylin's stomach growled and Terkast twitched his head towards it. "You didn't get any food, and I'm sorry. It's just that Avoxes aren't allowed. What I'm doing is unprecedented. We'll eat when we get back. I was thinking crab."

Maylin smiled. From what she could see, it was unprecedented. Other Capitolites looked odd at her, and didn't treat her right. That was how she knew.

Lost in her thoughts, Maylin followed Terkast until they were in the Control Room. It was dark, both outside and inside, and Terkast quickly added the lights of the TVs to brighten it. The arena was set, and everything was ready. Of course, the year of non-stop work was finished so they can sit back and watch the Games in about a day.

"We get to see the scores!" Terkast said, and picked up his phone. "Your best lobster with melted butter, please. No, no seasonings. Thanks." He flickered the dials, until it showed Charmain, like usual.

She was still babbling about the dress of the tributes from the Chariot Ride. Her current partner, Jives, kept trying to pull the conversation to the scores, but she overrode him. "The scores," he frantically whispered.

"And now to the scores!" Charmain cried out. A picture of Jet flashed up, with a score of 9. It was a close up, with a maroon background.

Cree was after him, in the same pose and background. Her face was solemn and an 11 was to the right of her. Floyd received a 10 and Tamara a 9.

When Asher's face popped up, Maylin giggled. Of course, he got his 6, and Marielle her 4. The Capitolites must think that is was as usual. High scores for One and Two, low for Three.

Joss' photo had a 9, as did Caddis. The tributes must be so nervous right before receiving their scores. Corson got an 8, and he actually managed to smile in his photo. Frankie received a 2, and Maylin could imagine her bursting out in tears.

Wolf got his 3 and Linea a 4. They were on par with their district, but still low. It must be heart-wrenching to them. Gyton received an 8, which was pretty good. Of course, he had allied with the Careers (not that it mattered much anyway), so it must mean he's good. Harley also got an 8 for her running with axes performance.

Lavinia received a 2 like Frankie, for she did nothing to show she was exceptional in any way. Her district partner, Vesture, got a 3. After District Eight, things usually picked up in scores. For example, Brenda got a 6, and Tristan a 7.

For District Ten, the young District, Kacey got a 5, and Arrett received a 4. Most of the tributes had already received their scores and were either happy or really upset. There were just four more, now.

Indas obtained a 9, while Livianna got a 6. Only two more tributes were left in waiting. Sheave got an 8, while Virgo got a 5.

"There!" Terkast said, sighing happily. "We're done! Now, all we have is the interviews, and then we can send them into the arena!"

**A/N: Now that we've seen the tributes and what they can do, any clue on who'll win?**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I've decided to make the interviews three chapters, because we don't get to see much of our tributes. As in, we don't get their POV, so this is the next best thing! Enjoy!**

Thornfinn Rowle was dressed up nicely, staring intently at the line of waiting tributes. He had on a patient, but welcoming smile. However, the tributes shifted uncomfortably in their metal chairs, nervous about the coming Interviews. Thorfinn had taken Caesar's old strategy and totally outdid it: his entire body was died a bright crimson for this year's games.

The Interviewer glanced around at the cameras, and when the cameraman gave a thumbs up, he took a deep breath and spoke. "Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the Interviews. My name is Thorfinn Rowle, and we're going to have a wonderful night tonight."

Maylin turned her head slightly, to get a better view on Thorfinn. The eccentric man was a few paces away, in a large comfortable chair in the center of the stage. The row of tributes was behind him, in considerably less comfortable chairs. The lights that were trained on the Interviewer hurt her eyes.

"Let us welcome our first guest of the night. Hello, Cree, how are you?" Thorfinn asked, getting up to help Cree into her seat. She was once again wearing a light colored dress, which was very flowy.

Cree gave a scowl. "I'm fine, Thorfinn," she muttered, but was silent once more. Going by her attitude, her angle (as Terkast had taught Maylin earlier that day) was the vicious 'rip-your-heart-out, instead of flirty.

"Could you tell us about your family?" Thorfinn said, trying to get Cree into a more talkative mood. Any person knew that an unresponsive, angry person didn't get many sponsors.

"Well," Cree began, slight wincing, "I left my mother and father, because they had a very different life than I wanted. Since I could take care of myself, I took my younger sister with me. It was the best decision I could've ever made."

"Very interesting, Cree!" Thorfinn exclaimed, glad he had something to go on. "What's your sister's name? Do you have any friends?"

"No. I've been working too much. Plus my sister needs help." Cree seemed to be making this as short as possible, trying to get off the stage without too much of her personal life being told. "Her name's Yakama," she added as an afterthought.

Thorfinn took it all in stride. "Now, I don't hear of many District One tributes working at this age! What do you do?"

Cree gave a snort, and a haughty smile. It made Maylin feel less uneasy to see a change from the constant scowl. "Really? What kind of question is that?" This threw Thorfinn off, although his smile only faltered for a few seconds. "I work with jewelry, like the rest of District One. Speaking of," she paused and pointed into the crowd. The receiving lady squealed, as is Cree had threatened to kill her. "_That_ lady is wearing one of my finer pieces in her ears."

The entire crowd turned with audible noise. Even two of the cameras briefly left Thorfinn. The earrings were beautiful pearl earring adorned with gold that hung long and almost touched her shoulders.

Thorfinn nodded sagely. "Your sister?" he prompted, and Cree winced again. It was as if she wanted to leave the girl – Yakama it was – out of it.

"She's younger than I am, but just like me. I joke around and call her 'Mini-me.'" Thorfinn asked about her skills, and Cree made the haughty smile once more. "If I told you, it wouldn't serve me well in the arena, would it? But I will tell you that I learned it from my mother when I was still a kid. It's a dying art, she told me. Makes us different."

"Thank you, Cree," Thorfinn concluded, giving a winning smile. She only ignored it, and walked slowly back to her seat, careful of the dress. "Our next guest is Jet Vermeil. Welcome Jet!"

Jet smiled widely, trying to outdo Thorfinn. "I'm great, and yourself?"

"Perfectly fine. Scratch that. _Exceptionally_ fine. Tonight's the Interviews, of course! I live for them! Now, tell me about yourself. I heard you were a great storyteller."

Jet smiled wider, and took a deep breath. "Well, I grew up in District One, just like the lovely Cree." He paused, and an audible snort could be heard behind him. "I have a mother, father, and a little sister and brother. I also have a girlfriend, and I wouldn't give Patina up for anything."

Thorfinn nodded, and motioned his hand to show Jet to continue. "I worked a little bit here and there, but mostly I went to school. Despite my good looks, I'm actually quite smart." This gained a hearty laugh from the crowd. Maylin chuckled to herself, and she could feel Terkast's chair vibrate. This kid was good. Very good.

"Now, Jet. You have a very interesting name. Could you explain how you got it?" the Interviewer asked, trying to stick to relevant questions.

"Simple. All District One children are named for something jewelry-related, right? Or shiny, something like that. Remember Sparkles, a couple of years back? Jet is a type of stone, an often overlooked stone, but it truly makes the piece. My hair was jet black when I was born, so my parents thought it fit."

"Very good, very good," Thorfinn said. He ruffled through the papers on his lap, probably looking for good questions to ask. If only Maylin could get her hands on the tribute's papers, she wouldn't need to worry about getting her information about the tributes from Thorfinn. "Could you tell us why you think you'll win this year?"

Jet's smile, which had been slowly diminishing, grew much bright. "Glad you asked! Well, I have something up my sleeve – possibly a weapon, or a skill – that _nobody _will suspect. Well, except for the Gamemakers. Plus, I have people to go back to. I didn't plan this all in District One to fail. I am extremely fit, and I could kill most of these tributes with a shoelace. I'm just that good."

Thorfinn accepted this, but his facial expression showed that he was really curious. A buzzer sounded, and he dismissed Jet. "Now, here's Tamara Lively, everyone!"

Tamara was in a tight black dress, which revealed certain parts of her back. It was beautiful. "Now, I heard you were training to be a Peacekeeper. Is this why you'll win?"

"Naturally," she said lightly, a small smile on her face. She batted her eyes at the crowd, and a collective swoon from the males. "I mean, my father had won years past. It makes sense for me to win too, doesn't it? I think it's fate."

"What a wonderful idea for you to have. I think that that'd make me do well. Any friends?"

Tamara laughed quietly, but it quickly grew louder. "If I didn't I'd be worried! I have so many, but there are just a few that I consider my besties! They're my sparring buddies, and I think they make me so much better."

Thorfinn nodded. "You seemed very comfortable at the Chariot Rides. What was running through your mind?"

"Me? Well, I was thinking that I really liked the Capitol. District Two is nice, but there's too much gray. This place has a lot of colors. Plus, I was trying to look my best."

"Very nice. Thank you, Tamara. Could Floyd come up, please?" Tamara curtsied to the crowd, and batted her eyes more at the crowd, but Floyd just pushed her out of his way.

"Hello," Floyd grunted. "Let's cut to the chase. I volunteered for the glory. It's what everyone in my district wants, right?"

The Interviewer was a little thrown off, but recovered quickly. "Of course. That is why District Two is always a good contender in the Games. Why do you think that you'll win?"

Floyd laughed a short bark like laugh that fit his frame. "Why not? I'm strong, I'm prepared, I'm intimidating, I have good allies, and I'm great with any weapon you give me. Tell me, Thorfinn, how could I not win?"

"You have quite a good point there, Floyd," Thorfinn said, his smile the same as always. It was a shame, Terkast thought to himself, that he didn't know about the Quell idea. "So, tell us about your family life."

"Have a father and mother. My sister, you'll see her in a couple years. Vixen Barabe. Remember that name. She's as good as me, plus she's pretty enough to attract all the guys in her Games. And I'll be rooting her on when she comes. My family is all about trust and support."

Thorfinn inclined his head, as if he believed there was much more than that involved with Floyd's family. Most of District Two was barbaric, and trained their children until they dropped. "It was nice talking to you, Floyd. Everyone please welcome Marielle Bernstein."

Marielle had a friendly smile plastered on her face, and shook Thorfinn's hand as she sat down. She introduced herself, and calmly waited for her next question. "How's your home life?" Thorfinn asked.

"Oh, it's wonderful!" Marielle gushed. "I have so many friends, and they all love me. My family split up, but I get to see my siblings all the time."

"Siblings?" Thorfinn asked. "How many? And, pardon if this is insulting, but do you have a favorite?"

Marielle lowered the intensity of her smile, and gained a sheepish sort of look. "I have two," she stated, and turned to the camera. "Sorry to say this, Vector, but Matty is my favorite." Marielle turned back to Thorfinn. "His real name is Matkovitch, but he is the kindest boy I've ever met. Sadly, he lives with my mom – I live with my dad, of course – but I still get to see him sometimes."

She pulled out a ragged old stuffed animal from within a deep pocket. "Speaking of, Matty gave me his favorite toy as my token. He never sleeps without it, and I'm wondering how he's dealing now."

"That sounds very sweet, Marielle. Anything else you would like to tell us, before your time is up?" he asked, and shifted subtly in his seat.

Terkast yawned. He was getting bored. And they weren't even a quarter of the way done. He hated the pre-game stuff. It was so much better with the bloodshed and gore in the games.

Marielle seemed to think, and unconsciously grabbed the stuffed animal tighter. "I just wish… that… someone would notice," she stated quietly. Thorfinn looked at her expectantly, but her timer had gone off, and Asher Decon was now in the seat.

"Asher Decon, everyone! Now, Asher, how are you tonight?" Thorfinn asked, still perplexed over Marielle's swift departure. It was eating him up inside. He wanted to know, very badly, what Marielle wanted other's to notice.

"I'm fine, just fine," Asher muttered, trying not to look in the camera. However, Thorfinn was used to this, and knew some ways to get the quiet tributes out of their shells.

"Seems nice. SO, give us your impression of the Capitol, will you please, Asher?" The boy seemed a little thrown off, as the majority of the Interviewer's questions were about family.

"I mean, it's nice and all. Much better than District Three. The factories get boring, ya know?" Thorfinn smiled. Asher was still rather quiet, but it was getting better for his word count.

Another warm smile, to get Asher talking. "I can imagine. That's what most tributes tell me their impressions of the Capitol are, could you believe that? So, family. You said you tire of District Three, could you explain why?"

Asher looked around nervously, and Terkast could see the gears turning in his mind. Should he speak out about his old District, in front of the Capitol that were so shaded of the horrible lives? Or should he keep quiet, and coast through the rest of his interview?

"My parents divorced early on in their marriage, soon after they had my brothers. They… didn't have enough money, so my house is split in two. My mom often gives me puzzles to solve. Uh, my father, likes to drink… and my mom is, uh, kinda callous. So, I take care of everyone. My sister and brothers, I mean. It's not that bad."

Asher was prattling on, fueled by his nervousness. Terkast actually felt bad for him. Living in a house that was split down the middle was hard, especially since he had both parents to deal with. Terkast lost his father in a scuffle in District Twelve early on. But the Capitol took care of its own.

Asher then described his working life, and how he knew the pieces of the computer, in and out. Once you got him talking, he kept going – although he did retain the rather nervous attitude.

His buzzer rang, and Caddis Tipper jauntily walked up. Thorfinn introduced her, and she waved happily to the crowd. A typical Career, but Terkast and the rest of the Gamemaker's knew that.

"Now, Caddis. Your last name sounds familiar. Who –"

"My big brother, of course!" Caddis interrupted, and got the attention of all those around her. "I mean who _hasn't_ heard the name Strip Tipper? Brute force was his game, and he used it well."

Thorfinn nodded. "I remember now!" he exclaimed. "You're going to be like Strip, I assume, right?"

Caddis smiled. "Yeah, I am. I'm even _more_ prepared than him for these Games, I think. My dad's helped me for my entire life, and I can show up my mom. Then she'll know I'm good too!"

"You have problems with your mother?" Thorfinn asked, not even relatively abashed to mention this over live TV. Caddis, however, seemed to realize what she said.

"Uh, yeah. She always thought that I wasn't that good, because Strip won. That's why I have to win!" She ended up much more confident than she started.

"You think you'll win?" Thorfinn asked. This was even more boring to Terkast. Of course every Career is going to say that they will win. They believe they will, although only one tribute could come out. And a Career isn't a likely victor this year.

Caddis' smile faltered, and she tried to pick it back up. "No," she said solemnly, before her laughter came bubbling back. She couldn't hold in her joke any longer. "Of _course_ I'm going to win! I just said I was even more prepared than Strip! How could I lose?"

Thorfinn scowled for an instant, before his smile came back. It wouldn't look good in front of the Capitol to show that a tribute just showed him up. "Thank you for your time," he said coldly, and welcomed up her District Partner.

"So, Joss," Thorfinn started, and Joss leaned in to hear more. "You were noble and volunteered for little Seel huh? I hope he takes after you, and we see him in the Games later on! Tell us about yourself."

"I would've done it even if I didn't want the glory, Thorfinn. Just seeing Seel, well, he can thank me when I come around for the Victory Tour." Joss then smiled, and quite a few of the audience members sighed. He was rather attractive – for a tribute.

"How do you think you'll fare in these Games, Joss?" Thorfinn asked, fully expecting the answer.

"Great! I think I'm fully prepared, and I'm doing it for my family. They already lost my sister – Pearl. They're a bit anxious, but I know I can handle it. Plus, I need to go home, for my mother. She's pregnant, and she might have already had the baby. My family is near perfect, and I'd hate to ruin it for them by dying."

Terkast saw the crowd. Many ladies had tears welling in his eyes. Such a beautiful tribute, and he has a great home life too! He had played the interviews well, and Joss would get many sponsors tonight.

The Head Gamemaker stretched as much as he could in his chair. One third of the way done. And then tomorrow, the Games. That was the only thing that kept him going through this.

**A/N: It was originally supposed to be 2 chapters, but I gave a tad too much detail and it was a C-C-C-Combobreaker! So I stuck with three, and liked how well I developed these tributes. Hopefully you now know a bit more about them! So, kindly review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Yeah, one more chapter to the Games. Enjoy this as a buffer, though!**

Terkast grumbled, and shifted in his seat. This was so boring. Couldn't they just skip the interviews, and get to the killing? It would interest him more!

"Frankie Heathome of District Five, people," Thorfinn announced, and got to work on getting Frankie out from under her hair. "How are you doing, Frankie?" he asked gently. She gave a squeak in response. "You need to be a bit louder, dear, for the audience to hear you. And if they hear you, they'll choose to sponsor you."

Frankie raised her head, and shook her hair out of her face. Her rather pale face was exposed, and her cheeks quivered in fear. She squeaked once more, before repeating 'fine' in an audible voice.

"Good," Thorfinn said, trying to coax her farther. "Now, could you tell us about your family? How was your life?"

Immediately the District Five girl began crying, and Thorfinn winced. Wrong move. "I was never really liked in school, and everyone bullied me. It was only worse at home. Mom never really liked me. She preferred Noco. She always told me that I would never get anywhere in Five since I wasn't smart enough. I tried to prove her wrong, but she never thought it was me. Dad was better, and he actually liked me, and told me I was pretty. I never believed him. I wasn't pretty. I took to hiding from the world, and becoming invisible so that I could lessen the bullying. Lately I've been doing great in school, trying to prove my mother wrong with my good grades, but it hasn't worked. Nobody likes me," Frankie sobbed, not taking many breaths.

Thorfinn was thrown off. It just came out in a rush, her story. There weren't many more questions left to ask. He gave a furtive glance at the clock. She wasted most of it, but there was still half a minute left.

"Ah, I'm sorry," he soothed, trying to think of more questions. Frankie kept crying, oblivious to the world around her. "Was… uh… Noco the one who called for you?" He asked lamely, unsure of what to do. Her life seemed horrible, but there had to be something that she liked.

"Noco?" Frankie whispered, wiping her nose on the pretty white sleeve of the shirt she was wearing. "He's my brother, and he did call out. He never expected me to volunteer – I don't think anyone did. He's great. I love him, and he's the only thing that I lived for back home. I _need_ him."

Thorfinn nodded, his composure regained from the outbreak before. "Speaking of volunteering, why did you do it?"

Frankie's eyes became wide, and she looked around. Finally, she squared herself to the cameras. "I figured that… I would… die anyway. I would rather save that poor girls life, than watch her die and still be bullied."

The buzzer went off, and Frankie walked off. She showed more confidence than she had before, as if she was lighter by telling her story. However, many of the Capitolites in the crowd weren't so impressed. They glanced at her with disgusted looks, and Terkast knew she wouldn't have any sponsors.

Corson wasn't that bad looking either. A few ladies in the crowd leaned forward in anticipation, but others were appalled by his hair. It was a beautiful black, but it was rather greasy – especially after it was just washed.

"So, your life, Corson?" Thorfinn asked, sure he was to get a better reaction from this tribute than of Frankie.

"It's great Thorfinn," Corson stated, and he seemed very relaxed and happy. "I have a mother, father, sister and brother. My life isn't as bad as some of the others here." He looked around plainly, seemingly challenging some of them.

"Really? You gave us some vagueness, could you explain it more?" Thorfinn asked. His job was to get the most facts out of the tributes, and not be biased to any of them.

"Well, my sister just celebrated not being Reaped for the final time, and Blue is still too young. Blue is my brother," he added. Corson had this way of speaking quickly, and it slightly annoyed Terkast.

Maylin had hung on every word that Frankie and Corson were speaking. She wanted to know about her family – possibly – and how her District was faring. There was a _slight_ chance that Corson might mention her family because she was once friends with Lilianna, but she doubted it.

"He's really cute. My parents are probably one of the few people in the District that married for love, and not just to survive. It makes it kinda hard on us sometimes, but it's worth it to see them holding hands and smiling."

Thorfinn smiled, and shifted once more in his chair. "How do you feel that you'll do in these Games? It's harder since it's a Quarter Quell, especially since we don't know what the twist is."

Corson's brow creased in thought. "I think I'll do rather well. I'm prepared, and living in District Five has taught me something!" he smiled hopefully, and Thorfinn returned it. He got to ask more questions than normal because Corson talked quickly.

"Now for District Six, with Linea Navy." A pretty girl stepped forward. She was shorter than average, but also very pale. "How are you doing Linea? And, just to get it over with, your family life?"

Thorfinn laughed at his little joke, and Terkast could tell he was also bored. "Well," she started in a high melodic voice. "I'm doing fine, Thorfinn. I really like the Capitol, and the food is a lot better than my mom can make. Sorry mom," she giggled.

"I kinda like it at home. I mean, I'm kinda ignored and don't have any friends, but it's all good at home. I mean, I'm not as smart as Daddy thinks I am. And Mommy," Linea paused. She sounded childish, but Terkast doubted that she noticed. It was just how she talked about her family all the time. "She thinks I'm cool for my eyes. I'm not, not like her. I hate my eyes."

Thorfinn looked around with interest. "And what color are your eyes?" he asked, his own eyes twinkling.

The entire crowd was turned to Linea, and she shifted uncomfortable. She tried to shield her eyes, but it was too late. "My, what beautiful amber eyes," Thorfinn said easily, making Linea laugh somewhat.

"I can't see how you would be ignored and bullied!" he exclaimed. "You're such a charming girl!"

Linea smiled awkwardly. The crowd paying attention to her must really be freaking her out, as she says she was nearly always ignored at home.

"Uh, well, I get made fun of because of my eyes. Most people, as you know, from District Six have blue or green eyes, and I kinda stand out. And, I write a lot, so I'd rather be in my own world than with other people. I control what happens to the people in my story, but in life I'm just thrown about."

Very deep, Terkast thought to himself. The tributes bored him. If he was an author of the Hunger Games, he would just not write the Pre-Game stuff. It bored him now; imagine how boring it must be to read. With the buzzer, Linea was replaced with Wolf.

Wolf was short, and looked very weak. He chuckled to himself nervously, but then straightened out and tried to look confident. Wolf took Thorfinn's first question with ease, and began to describe his family life with extreme detail.

"I live with my father and two sisters. I usually work inside with the girls, but that's only because there's nothing really to do in District Five, and I'm not old enough to get a job yet," Wolf explained, and a slight blush appeared in his cheeks.

"My mother… she, uh, was killed when I was a kid. She tried to help our family, and she paid the price for her actions," he nearly whispered, trying to hold in the tears that were currently lurking in the corners of his eyes.

He furiously wiped them away, upset at showing emotion other than courage. "But I like my life. And I hope that Alfaith's Labs will take me after I win the Games. I mean, I already put in an application and everything."

Thorfinn smiled. "Very nice Wolf," he said, folding his hands on his lap. "What do you think the arena will be?"

"Me?" Wolf asked. He blinked slowly, biding his time. "I've overheard the Trainers saying that it'd be different this year, and it hasn't been seen in a while. So, possibly an arena that's broken up into multiple sections? That hasn't been seen since the 706th Games." Wolf continued on, but was ushered off the stage to make room for Harley.

"Hi," she whispered. Harley was nearly curled up in herself, and looked even more pathetic than Frankie. Thorfinn smiled for an extra second, deciding how to deal with her.

Finally, he moved. "You seem to be strong, and from District Seven, too! How do you think you'll do?"

"I-I-I," Harley stuttered. She gaped for a few seconds before closing her mouth and taking a deep breath. "I hope I'll do well," she muttered. She brought her voice louder when Thorfinn asked for it. "I know how to do… some stuff…"

Unexpectedly, Harley broke into tears. "I don't think they're good enough for the Games, though!" she sobbed. Thorfinn was shocked, and awkwardly patted her shoulder.

"How am I supposed to go home?" she asked, tears still leaking from her eyes. "I have a sister, and great parents! I didn't do anything to deserve this, it's horrible! The whole Games, a-and the Capitol," Harley screeched.

Peacekeepers near the side were looking futilely around, and marched forward on command from President Welch. They secured Harley and dragged her off stage. Her screams could still be heard, and the crowd was beginning to titter.

However, Terkast was extremely pleased by that. It was a shame that Harley was incredibly weak, but she just made this more interesting. There was about only one third of the tributes left, and it pleased him. He would have to call the arena to have the mutts freed. They must feel comfortable in their environment to cause the most damage.

Gyton came on to the chair with a cocky expression. He was just as confident as all of the Careers, possibly because he'd been training like one for his life.

Once more, a few ladies leaned in. The guys would get quite a lot of sponsors this year, just on looks alone. Gyton shrugged off Thorfinn's question on his family life, and began on how he was ready for the Games.

"I've prepared for this for my life. I knew that I'd be picked sooner – even though I volunteered – so why waste my time just working? All the District kids should prepare. There'd be fewer bloodbaths, and a better battle."

The crowd was hanging on every word. This tribute just proposed something that they all wanted. Adding onto his looks, Gyton was going to get very lucky in the Games.

"That's all well and good, Gyton," Thorfinn said, perturbed that he was getting ignored, "but please tell us about your family."

Gyton scowled, which significantly marred his handsome face. "Fine," he nearly snarled. "I'm the oldest, ok? My sisters name is Nicci, yes Nee-chi, and she's younger than me by a couple years. Mother and Father don't pay attention to me because they have to take care of _her_."

Thorfinn opened his mouth, but Gyton plowed on. "What's wrong with her, you ask? _We don't know._" He was beginning to sound very angry, and Gyton began to move his hands as he spoke.

"She's sick with something, but needs constant attention that my parents don't have for two children. I was sick of getting ignored, so I stayed out of their way. And I prepared." He looked around at the crowd, who were somewhat turned off by his performance. "Now, don't get me wrong," he amended, "Nicci is my favorite. She's so sweet and kind and I couldn't live without her. But… just _some_ attention?" He finished lamely, sounding extremely exasperated.

Thorfinn dismissed him rather coldly, and welcomed up Lavinia from District Eight. She was wearing a very low cut black dress, and a lot of makeup.

"I'm doing fine, Thorfinn," she began without the question even being asked. "And since I know what you're going to ask, I don't have a family. Factory blew up, terrible way to lose so many District Eight people, I know. I, like a fool," she broke up her sentence by laughing, "tried to save them. That's how I got _this_."

Lavinia lifted up her arm to bring a large white scar into the light. A few crowd members gasped. "I was left with my sister, and I got a job to support us. Uh, sadly, it wasn't enough. She, uh, died and I was left alone. That good enough for you?"

Thorfinn nodded twice, but his eyes were narrowed. Her sister just died? Terkast felt there was something much more to it.

"I'm ready for anything the Gamemakers can throw at me. I'm sleek, I'm sexy, and I'm ready. Put that in your pipe and smoke it." Liviana laughed at her own joke, and bent down slightly. She covered it up as tying her shoes, but Terkast knew she was just trying to get the crowd to see her cleavage.

"You work?" Thorfinn asked, trying so desperately to keep his cool in front of this outgoing, showy girl. "As what?'

Liviana laughed once more, and straightened up to an annoyed groan from the male part of the crowd. "I couldn't tell you what, Thorfinn," she giggled. "It would give away my strategy," she claimed, but everyone knew it was false.

She sighed. "Tell you what. I'll end this, because I know the buzzer's gonna buzz soon. All I want to do is go back to District Eight and continue to live my previous life, ok? Is that so hard?"

Liviana stepped off the chair and was halfway back when the buzzer rang. Her flustered District Partner, Vesture, scrambled up.

Vesture was small, but it was easy to see the Growl in him. The crowd, who had gossiped of nothing else during the past few hours, gasped and immediately talked amongst themselves.

Thorfinn waited for them to quiet, in which he introduced Vesture and asked him about his home life.

"It's pretty good," Vesture began. A big smile lit up his face, and he seemed to swell. "I work with my father in one of the most renowned factories. I put together all the clothes, and make sure they're fit for use."

He nodded to a few of the crowd members, and said quietly, "like those. I helped with that design. I go to school, and I do alright. I like my family. I have a mom and a dad, but I like my grandpa best. You all know him – Woof Buchannan?"

A large cheer went up through the crowd at the name. Those old enough remembered the Game with nostalgia, while the younger ones were just happy they had a Victor's grandchild in the Games now.

"He taught me a couple things, and I think they worked out. I'll be ready for anything, and I hope to make the Games good."

Maylin rolled her eyes. Nobody likes a suck-up. However, the crowd seemed to love him, and he would be getting a lot of sponsors just for being Growl's grandson.

"So, how is Growl these days? He's a tad too old to go jaunting here every time we call now," Thorfinn asked. He had dropped his formal Interview questions, and had fallen into an easy speaking pattern that was reserved for friends.

"Yeah, he's a bit old," Vesture grinned. "But he's still a fighter. He talks about his Games all the time, and says it changed his life a lot." The crowd cheered once more, and Maylin felt as if she was going to throw up.

"He even gave me his token to use. I can't wait to get home and tell him I did it too." Vesture held up a small gold coin with a pointing dog on it. The buzzer rang as he was about to say something else, and Vesture left rather disappointedly.

The last buzzer startled Terkast. He hadn't really been paying attention, and had been daydreaming about what Mutts Jahall had left him. Oh, what he could 7make them do! Gladly, there were only eight more tributes left, and he was so close to the Games.

**A/N: By the way, has anyone seen the Avengers trailer? It's amazing, and I can't wait until May 4****th****! Anyway, please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Just one word: Enjoy!**

The next tribute, Brenda McArthy, was called onto stage. Terkast took a quick glance at her, and fell back into his planning stage. The arena would be arranged with One and Twelve next to each other. Then, from Twelve, it would descend by four. It would be Twelve, Eight, Four, Ten, Six, and Two. After Two it would be Eleven, then Seven, Three, Nine, Five and back to One. It was perfect, and wasn't a cliché circular District arena.

Brenda began talking of her family, because Thorfinn asked. "Well, I _do_ have a twin," she said, batting her eyes at the crowd. Thorfinn raised his eyebrows, intrigued by this outburst.

A few of Welch's lieutenants leaned in, intent on what she was saying. If Brenda won, then both she _and_ her twin could be sold to the Capitol people for very good money. They couldn't tell the difference, and they would make twice the money.

"Yeah, his name's Seamus, and he's my rock," she finished. Terkast could hear audible sighs from the lieutenants above. Sadly, the Capitol people could tell the difference between a male and a female. "He's been there for me when my mom gave up on us, and my dad was working. District Nine treats us well, but we still need to work – it's not like we're rich."

Thorfinn nodded, and carefully scratched the top of his head. "That's quite interesting. Not many twins go into the Games. If he was a girl, or you a boy, do you think he would volunteer for you?"

Brenda opened her mouth, but quickly shut it again. For a second, her sexy persona dropped, and her eyes became glassy. "I'm not sure," she said slowly, emphasizing each word. "I would love to think he would. I'm sure he would. But then, he knows that I can handle myself well, and that I would murder him if he ever tried. So it all depends on how he would like to get killed," Brenda laughed, prompting a laugh from the crowd.

"Do you have a token? Can I see it?" Thorfinn asked, noticing a red cardinal feather stuck in Brenda's hair that didn't match her light brown dress.

She carefully took it out, and showed it to him. "It's a special feather for me. It means a lot. Plus, the red signifies blood."

"Yes, could you explain why?" Thorfinn asked, trying to draw the last few seconds out of her time.

Brenda smiled a secret smile, and tucked her caramel colored hair behind her ear and fingered the feather delicately. "I can't do that." Thorfinn was about to object, but Brenda plowed through his objections. "It gives away something of my talent, and we don't want _them_," she jabbed a finger behind her, "to find out, now do we?"

The buzzer rang, and Brenda stepped daintily off. She was definitely a spitfire, but her intelligence was low. Terkast could tell easily that it was the feather oft tied to arrows to aid in their flight. Any other tribute could do that too. Brenda, like all the females, would be lifted up into the District opposite the circle of theirs. The males would be lifted into the District to the left. Therefore, there would be enough variation without it being cliché and putting District Partners and possible allies together.

Thorfinn's question about family once again drew him out of his thoughts. Tristan was plain as usual, and dressed in a darker brown suit-like material that blended well with his tan skin and brown features.

"My family was strict, but I think I'm better because of that. We didn't have a lot of food, but we learned to get more. I mean, it got harder when my sister was reaped."

A gasp went up through the crowd. Another family member of a previous tribute? This was just getting way to good! "She died though." A groan replaced the gasp. Anyone in the crowd would be hard-pressed to remember her name. "She was a bloodbath. My only goal is to get past where she died. Get past where she died, make it home and make her proud."

He didn't cry like the rest of the tributes did when talking about dead family. He had a harsh gleam in his eyes, as if he intended to kill every man, woman, and child in this room if he had to.

"Uh, very nice. Very nice, Tristan. How do you think you'll do in your goal?" Thorfinn said, trying to make the tribute seem less hostile in front of the crowd.

"Good. I can use a weapon – one I think you haven't seen used before," he remarked, waggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way. "And it'll take all of my opponents by surprise, too. I'll surely get past where Alba died, and I will avenge her death."

His voice was a little less hostile, but everyone could still plainly see how he intended to go about things. Still, some Capitolites were intrigued by his blood-filled act, and were intending to buy into him.

"Thank you, Tristan. Please welcome, from District Ten, Kacey Fickus." Kacey came up, and was dressed in a light blue dress with frills along the edges. The contrast between Tristan and her was great, since Kacey looked much more like a child.

She gave a nervous smile as she settled into the seat, and looked at Thorfinn expectantly. "So, Kacey. You're one of the youngest tributes in the arena. How does this make you feel?"

The question threw Kacey off, and she floundered for a second. She glanced fearfully into the crowd, and Terkast could tell that she already guessed that she wouldn't get any sponsors. "I think I'll do fine," she said, a smile plastered on her face. But her voice wavered, and it easily betrayed her fear.

"I think I'll do fine," she repeated. "I lived in District Ten. We are a strong people; we _have_ to be with living with all those strong animals. They're a lot bigger and stronger than us, so even the smallest person needs to be able to deal with them."

"Well spoken," Thorfinn observed, and dipped his head towards her. This gave Kacey some confidence, although the thought of being one of the youngest still shook her. "Now, your family, if you will?"

This was what Kacey had been preparing for. She opened her mouth, and the words that flowed from it sounded clearly practiced. "I had a good life in District Ten. I lived on a nice farm with my mom, dad and two siblings. My older sister, Phika, is a bit pushy and she _always_ hogs the bathroom, but she's ok. I just love my little brother Nico though. He's sweet and kind, but so innocent!"

She took a deep breath, intent on spending most of her time describing her family. "Like a few other tributes, I also lost a sister to the Hunger Games, but it was before I really knew her. My parents and Phika are still sad – especially with me going in – but I wasn't really affected."

This year's tributes were wonderful. The amount of those affected by the Games was great, and it was sure to give them a good reason to fight. "My parents run the farm, and I like helping. I have a horse. His name's Windswept. He races me, and watches me a lot. I think I'll do well." The last part was said as a confirmation, and as the buzzer rang she was ushered off the stage.

"Arrett Hayes of District Ten, everyone!" There was a small smattering of applause, but nothing compared to say, Floyd's. It was because Arrett was one of the two 12-year-olds, and they doubted he had much of a chance.

He wore a darker blue outfit to compliment Kacey's dress, and as he sat down in the chair he fidgeted. "Hello, Arrett," Thorfinn started, "how are you?"

"Fine," Arrett responded, his voice clipped. Thorfinn raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything. He would have to need a newer strategy to work in bringing this tribute into the light.

"Could you tell us about your family?" the Interviewer asked, staying strictly away from mentioning that Arrett was one of the youngest.

Arrett's face deepened into a scowl. "You _really_ want to know about them? Fine. My father's a drunk, my mother doesn't have time for me, and Rose is the only good one that pays attention to me. I don't even really have any friends. Cloy, yes Cloy, is an _acquaintanceship_, and he acts _way_ too snobbish most of the time because his family can afford to live in town."

He was very feisty for a 12-year-old, Terkast decided. That must be his angle. He had to show the crowd that he was worth sponsoring, otherwise he would die off very quickly. The Capitolites had taken a liking to this fiery boy.

However, Arrett wasn't fully done with his explanation of family. "We could've gone to live in town, but that was a few years ago. We lost everything. My brothers Niart and Kello were killed… in a stampede. We lost them, and everything else followed. Father liked them best, so he started drinking to ease the pain. And mother, why, with father and the boys gone, she needed to make sure we didn't lose the only thing left. Aren't I lucky?" He nearly snarled the last few words.

The buzzer sounded a few seconds later, when Arrett went to open his mouth. Terkast frowned. It seemed earlier than the other tributes, and he realized that the words were getting dangerously close to rebellion. It was a very different personality than the one he had seen in the Training Center.

"Thank you, Arrett," Thorfinn said, trying to add some cheeriness to the ending. He welcomed up Livianna Chayro and asked how she was, along with asking her about her family.

She smiled wide, and Terkast knew that she was one of the only tributes who were sincere. "Please, call me Life. Everyone else does. To start, I'm happy to be here. I was getting bored at home, and it's such a nice change from District Eleven!"

The crowd cheered loudly at her statement, and Livianna basked in it. "My family is like a lot of others. I like my mom and dad, and my three brothers are ok. They're all very different. Damascus, he's my baby brother, is always playing jokes. Michel is never really around, 'cause he hangs out with his friends. And Cavana… is Cavana… he doesn't like talking much. He's a real loner."

Thorfinn smiled, completely at ease after Arrett's hostility. "Nice family. You need to go home to see them again, right?"

Seeing Thorfinn's smile, Livianna gave another one of her big ones. "Of course! I can't wait to see Damascus again. He'll be so glad to see me home! And hopefully Cavana'll talk to me. Sometimes he does, but usually when he isn't working he's outside drawing."

"That means you're going to do well. Right, Life?" Livianna seemed overjoyed that he used her nickname, and nodded a few times in rapid succession. The nickname did really suit her. She seemed so full of life, and extremely content with it. It would be horrible to see her blood spattered in the arena, Terkast thought.

"Yup! I'm going to do well, the only way I know how, and go home. And then, we'll get some more food!" The buzzer rang again, and Terkast had the faintest recognition that they purposely did it again. After the almost-rebellion in the 75th Games, the President had ordered that nothing even mildly offensive be shown on television. Of course, it was near common knowledge to all those working on the Games that the Districts starved on a daily basis.

She bounced happily off, and Indas took her place. "How's your life going Indas?" Thorfinn asked to the large District Eleven boy.

He smiled haughtily, and launched into a long tirade. "I'm doing fine. I like the food, 'cause I can't find anything really like your stews in District Eleven. We don't get much meat there, but I love the extra food during the harvest." He aimed a spiked smile at the camera. Indas was rebelling without really tripping any lines. He would be dangerous, but it made Terkast smile.

With a small prompt from Thorfinn, Indas started on his family. "My mother and father and I, we work to take care of my little siblings. Marybelle is so sweet, and the twins are very helpful at times. I wasn't kidding about before, the extra rations really help our family. I wouldn't be here without them."

"Interesting. Now, your District is Agriculture, right?" Indas nodded, unsure of where this question was going. "What was your job?"

A proud smile graced Indas' lips, giving him a wild look. "I plow the fields with the rest of the _men_ of my District. I'm just that good."

Thorfinn thanked Indas, and sent him off stage when the buzzer rang. Terkast sighed. Two more tributes. Just two.

"Virgo Irving from District Twelve!" Thorfinn announced as Virgo got herself situated. When she stopped patting herself down, Thorfinn turned to her. "So Virgo, do you like your stay at the Capitol?"

Virgo nodded quickly, and steeled herself to speak. "It was great so far. I especially liked the Chariot Rides. I doubted Lampey a bit at first, but I love what he did with our eyes. I think it made a good impression," she said, smiling sheepishly at the crowd.

A swell of noise came, and it answered her question of how well they performed. "How's your life at home?"

Her faint confident attitude faded, as if she wasn't sure if she should disclose this information. "I have a brother, Taurus, and sister, Gemini, who are kinda dependant on me. My father was whipped when I was younger, for…" she paused, and then continued. Tears welled in her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away. "Consorting with another woman." She nearly whispered the last part, and everyone leaned in to hear her.

"I'm sorry, dear," Thorfinn said sympathetically. "Do you like your siblings?"

Virgo sniffed and gave a watery smile. "My sister is good. She doesn't like the whole 'naming off of the horoscope' thing, and since I was the first she kinda blames me. She's good enough, and loves dresses. Although," Virgo laughed, "she does like to skive off of her homework. Taurus is very bubbly and talkative. I really wish District Twelve was a better place, because right now his personality is a bit quelled."

The buzzer rang, and Terkast knew this time it was early. Thorfinn looked at it in confusion, but Virgo was already off. She was just grateful that her time explaining herself to all of Panem was up.

Sheave came up, and sat quietly in the chair. "I have a big family," he rumbled in response to Thorfinn's question. "Like pretty much everyone else, I have a mom and dad. I have three brothers and a sister."

"Who would be your favorite?" the Interviewer asked, trying to draw out an answer that would get a response from the audience.

"My least favorite would definitely be Cherry. She's my sister, and she's living with her husband. She disses my family all the time. Yes, I said my. I don't consider her a Trackman anymore. She doesn't deserve it. My, uh, favorite would be Digger."

Sheave laughed a little. "Don't get mad at me, guys! I kinda shunned Digger because, well, he's blind in one eye. He wants to be a teacher. But I swear, Dug, I'll be so much better when I come home. You're my favorite, and every time I beat up one of those guys, I did it for you. They shouldn't make fun of you. I promise I'll help you study."

Some women were crying in the audience, and Sheave had the harsh gleam in his eyes that Tristan was seen with.

"The only reason I'm not letting myself killed is because of them. I'm doing this for my family, so that we can leave that old house in the Seam, and finally live where we deserve!" He timed it well, because the buzzer rang a second before the conclusion of his sentence.

Thorfinn stood up and addressed the crowd as Sheave went back to his seat. The tributes were told to stand up, and each bowed or curtsied. "Thank you to our wonderful tributes! Hopefully, you'll know enough about each of them to make a good sponsorship! Have a good night, and enjoy your 725th Games!"

The tributes filed out, and there was a bunch of scraping as the audience left, too. Terkast and the rest of the Gamemakers waited until it was mostly clear to leave, so they could leave without being bombarded by the commoners.

Terkast smiled to himself. This torture was finally over. For the last time, he had survived Interviews and the Games were tomorrow. The Games were tomorrow. As he thought of this, Terkast gasped. Maylin shifted in response behind him, but he waved his hands. He had already called the mutt designer to let the mutts out.

The Games were so close! His last Game! He had to make sure that it was perfect, and he wanted them to come faster! With a groan, Terkast lifted himself to his feet. He felt as if he was going to be sick. He had to make the Games perfect, and they were less than 24 hours away. What an idiot he was for wishing the Interviews would be over this quickly!

**A/N: There, finally finished! Thank you for sticking with me through the pre-Games stuff! I promise the next chapter shall be the full excitement of the first day of the Games. Better hope that I don't kill off your favorite character just yet! *evil grin***


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Let the Games begin!**

The room was wide open, and considerably lighter than the room Terkast normally had. So many screens were set up for him to watch – 36 of them, to be exact. On the other side of the monstrous machine the mentors watched 24 screens just focused on their tributes. In front of Terkast was a panel of brightly lit buttons, many of which were blinking in rhythmic patterns. Beside Terkast were the Gamemakers and Jahall Cisco – the Head Muttation Designer.

"All ready," a voice said through a speaker. The old system made the voice sound tinny and nearly incomprehensible, but the meaning was clear.

With a smile, Terkast placed his hand on a large lever in the middle of the panel, and slowly brought it up. The openings of the tribute's places responded, and soon the tributes were lifted into the arena.

Many looked around in surprise, unsure of where the other tributes were. Livianna went to take a step forward, but steadied herself when she heard Fandral Olson's voice.

"Welcome to the 725th Hunger Games! The second part of the Quell is," Fandral announced, taking a dramatic pause, "that, at the end of each night, a vote shall take place. The tribute that has their name written most shall be 'voted off' and killed by the mutts! Let the 725th Hunger Games begin!"

The gong went off, and most tributes jumped in shock. They scrambled off of their plates and quickly grabbed the pack that was in front of them.

Some, like Floyd, Tristan and Frankie darted off into their surroundings. Others checked to make sure the scene was safe, and then began rifling through their given packs.

Tristan ran haphazardly through District Five, and barely noticed when he switched into his own District. Nearly everyone else was looking through their packs at the moment.

Apart from the start, things were starting to cool down. Terkast had time to look at each of the individual screens, instead of gaining a gist from the swirl of images.

"Release the wolves," Terkast ordered Jahall. She smiled and gently pressed a large, metallic button on her panel. With a burst of fur, fangs and glowing eyes, two wolves erupted from the ground.

A cry of triumph arose from the mentor's side, and Terkast quickly analyzed the screens. Kacey had found a boomerang craftily hidden within the bark of a tree. She held it up jubilantly, but stopped when she heard a rustling in the surrounding bushes.

Kacey bared her teeth and brandished her weapon as Tristan slid from the foliage. The boy's eyes alighted when he saw her weapon. They began circling, for Kacey was reluctant to throw her weapon and Tristan needed an opportunity.

He feinted to the left, and Kacey took the bait. With a warrior's cry, he launched himself at her, but she dodged. Kacey threw her boomerang at Tristan, and it thumped sickeningly against his thigh.

He grunted, but landed on top of Kacey. Using his body weight, Tristan kept her pinned. She screeched in pain, and a loud crack was heard when he shifted his weight.

The District Ten mentor's swore. They knew Kacey had little to know chance of surviving now. Tristan glanced at the boomerang a few feet away, as is looking for assurance. He then moved his body, causing another crack and screech of pain. He ignored that, and placed his hands carefully around her throat.

Tristan than began to squeeze harshly, and Kacey's struggles were restricted beneath his weight. Hisses and boos came from the other side as Kacey's struggles died down. Tears were streaming in her eyes as she gasped desperately for air.

A boom told Tristan to let go. The first cannon of the Games. He quickly grabbed her pack and patted the boomerang now placed in his belt. Tristan fled from the body and settled in a comfortable location. It was his District, and he knew the place the best.

There were a few more shouts, and Terkast turned his attention to them. It seemed that Frankie had tripped over her gift. She squealed when she saw the thick copper wire, and then slapped her hands over her mouth.

Floyd found a bow and arrow to the north of him, and made a face. He wasn't good at that, Terkast knew. Since he didn't have much brains to look for another weapon, Floyd stalked off. "Might stab them to death with the tips," he muttered.

He was in a large orchard, and shaded by the massive trees. Terkast looked around expectantly. No tributes were currently in his path, but if he moved quickly enough he might meet up with Brenda.

The District Nine girl was sprinting hard towards the center of the circle, her head darting around at any sound. All she had was the pack on her back, and she was afraid of being weaponless.

The two screens that had been on Kacey had relocated. Now there were two on Vesture. He sat on a dock, splashing his feet in the salty water. Terkast couldn't quite understand why, until he saw a bright wire hidden on top of the sand. His trap would protect him for now.

The last District Ten tribute, Arrett, was rifling about in the flowers. He shouted happily when he spotted a pack. His District was District Six's Mesa, although they did alter it so it was ground level. There wasn't much here other than flowers and rabbit holes.

He grabbed the medicine pack, and swept his head around. "Time to move on." He said cheerfully, giddy about the new pack. Arrett started into a jog, heading for the trees in District Eleven.

A noise made him jolt and break into a sprint. Terkast smiled. It was the mutt of the District, lovingly called the Chameleon.

Brenda was close to Floyd now, and their encounter would be perfect. A few more minutes and they would meet.

Cree was scaling a smaller peak of District Two's Mountain. Sadly, there was no Nut inside, but it would prove good for defending her life. Terkast laughed when he saw the tomahawk strapped to her back.

A few tributes had moved quickly to their home Districts. Wolf walked happily into the flower-filled Mesa, unaware of Arrett's fading back. Virgo's eyes brightened when she found the Meadow. She turned her head, as if she meant to speak to someone. However, nobody was there to talk to. She must've realized when the arena was.

Corson and Frankie reached their Park at nearly the same time. However, there were a lot of broken statues and obstacles to obstruct their view. Maybe tonight there would be a fight. Terkast fingers itched towards the fire button, but a screech stopped him.

He whipped his head towards the screens showing the fight. He knew that this would be all over Panem right now.

Floyd loomed over Brenda, but the girl's eyes were stuck on the bow he held. Floyd laughed gruffly. "Want this, huh?" he asked, waving it back and forth.

Brenda looked into his face, her own set into a determined mask. She nodded, which caused the District Two brute to laugh again.

"You ain't gonna get it," he cackled. Abruptly, his voice changed and became calm and deadly. "Your secret is shooting arrows, right? He didn't wait for a response, but plowed ahead. "I knew the feather seemed familiar in the Interviews. Vixen plays with them all the time." Brenda's face drained of color. "And now," Floyd continued, although his voice dipped several levels. "You're powerless."

As Brenda's mouth moved, so did Floyd. He leapt at her, but she jumped over his grasping hand. She tried to run away, but he snatched out and brought her to the floor with him.

With a well placed blow, Floyd broke her left shin. Brenda screamed, causing Sheave in District Eight and Livianna in Twelve to look around cautiously.

She bared her teeth and struggled. Bits of bone protruded from her leg. Floyd smiled sickeningly at the sight. Another blow and he broke her right shin.

Some blood was spattered on his face, but Floyd didn't care. He hefted himself up, sure that Brenda couldn't move much. He dusted himself off, and then stretched a little.

"Let's see if I can be as good as you," Floyd taunted as he grabbed the discarded bow. "But you know, _practice_ makes _perfect._"

He notched a bow as Brenda moaned. The first arrow went wide, and stuck in the dirt near her back. He fired twice more, one landing in her broken leg, the other imbedding itself in her right shoulder. She screamed again, but Floyd just laughed.

"Kill… me quickly," she begged. Floyd just shook his head, and then said no.

"How will I ever get to be as good as you, though?" he mocked. Another arrow flew loose. It pierced her calf and Brenda screamed once more. Her voice was going hoarse.

In rapid succession, three arrows were released. One hit her lower back and caused her to cough blood. One lodged in her arm, and the last hit her neck.

With a gurgle, blood spouted from Brenda's mouth. Floyd moved his feet to avoid the flow, but otherwise kept a good eye on her dying body. Seconds passed. They felt like hours.

Two bloody deaths within such a short time! Terkast sat back in his chair, the excitement finally over. He had been on the edge of his seat for that one, and it was no surprise. Yet, no cannon had gone off.

Floyd counted the remaining arrows, and loosed on into her skull for good measure. With it came her cannon. The Career smiled to himself, and then continued on. He had to find more tributes to kill, or possibly even his own allies.

Terkast switched his attention to Jet, who had just gained another screen. He was placidly avoiding Virgo, and combing the land for any supplies he might've missed. He already had three packs on his back, and a mace clutched in his left hand. He saw looking for the weapon he was good at, but was far away. It would take him a while to find it, especially since he was hiding from Virgo.

Asher was in District Three, and carefully stringing up an intricate trap. His District sported a beautiful, large house called the Estate. He placed wires all around the front entrance, and quickly jammed the end of it into an electrical outlet. He seemed pleased when the whole trap began to hum. Asher began whistling a tune, and went into the kitchen – probably to look for some extra food.

Marielle approached the Estate carefully. She just watched Asher place those traps, and was clearly against getting too close to them. With a sigh, she shook her head. "No Estate for me then," she whispered, and slunk around the base of the house. She picked up a stalk of berries and began nibbling them as she waited for nightfall in the carefully maintained bushes.

The sun was beginning to set. There was some action, and the tributes had begun to get comfy. The fire button called to Terkast, but he held out. The mutts would begin to cause some problems soon, and then there would be excitement. And then, there would be the anthem and the vote. It made Terkast squirm to think of who he could kill with mutts.

"Are your mutts ready?" he asked to Jahall. The Mutt Designer game him a look, and nodded tersely. "Good. Start them."

She spoke quickly into a receiver, and the mutts began to shift in their respective District. Joss seemed stunned as an entire herd of light colored horses approached from seemingly nowhere. He cowered behind a small hill as they turned and began galloping towards him.

"Not like this," Joss repeated over and over, his hands over his head. An eight-legged horse led the herd, and directed them faster towards Joss. With a beautiful jump, he leapt over Joss, and thundered on.

"It's good that Sleipnir didn't find him," Terkast said. Jahall nodded, although it was in frustration. "He would've turned the whole herd against him, and _that_ would've been an interesting death."

As the last horse – an energetic foal – leapt over the hill, he grazed Joss' head with a hoof. The resounding crack made Terkast wince, and Joss slumped to the ground unconscious.

He switched his eyes to another screen. Then another. The tributes were setting in as the sun travelled slowly down the sky. They were content with their safety, something that wouldn't sit well with the Capitol.

Harley was sitting in a tree, her body relaxed but her eyes bright. Her fingers stroked the head of a glinting bronze axe. She stifled a yawn and stretched out.

"Nobody here," she grumbled, unaware of Gyton watching her from a few trees down. "Thought the traitor would've shown up." She sat in the crook of her tree and closed her eyes.

Terkast threw a glance to Jahall, who was smiling devilishly. The branch of the tree moved slightly. Nothing changed in Harley's expression except the appearance of a small frown.

The tree groaned, and bucked Harley off. She landed on the ground gasping, holding onto her axe for dear life. The tree opened its dark, beady eyes and Harley screamed. The sound woke the rest of the forest, and they all reached out for her.

She darted through their clumsy branches, and tried to get out of their encompassing presence. Harley spun around for a few seconds, unsure of which direction to go in. With a particularly fierce blow to her chest, Harley gave up and sprinted away.

Gyton watched the trees with a piqued interest. He had saw them attack her, but wasn't aware that the trees near him had begun to attack either.

He dashed after Harley, intent on making it out of the deadly forest alive. He was a few paces behind Harley, but his breathing was normal.

"You," Harley panted, pointing her finger at his torso. Gyton grinned, and placed his hands on his knees. They were out of the forest, and the trees could no longer reach them.

He opened his mouth to retort, but a soft whooshing sound stopped him. Gyton cocked his head, and glanced warily back at the trees.

Flying from their depths was a number of sharp seeds aimed directly at Gyton and Harley. He pushed her and shouted "Run!" while beginning to run himself. With a soft pop, the seeds transformed into miniature trees.

Their eyes were bigger, but still held the same dark malice as they chased after the defenseless District Seven tributes. They kept running until they heard a giant crash behind them. As if the seedlings had hit an invisible wall, they couldn't go on anymore. They shook their new branches with hatred, and croaked incomprehensible words at them.

Harley turned to do battle with Gyton, but he was already gone. "Great," she mumbled, "that was my only chance!"

In District Five, Corson seemed to have met the wolves. Fenris and Vali had cornered Corson on a statue of the first female President. Both had bright red eyes. Fenris licked his black muzzle, and growled at Corson.

Corson seemed afraid to go down. It was pointless to think he could stay up there, for these beasts didn't seem to be leaving any time soon. His face was determined. Terkast actually admired his courage.

With a cry, Corson leapt off the statue into the waiting bodies of Fenris and Vali. To his surprise, the two didn't maul him. Instead, they sat on their haunches and glanced hopefully at Corson.

"Wha'?" Corson asked, completely unaware of what was going on. He cautiously reached his hand out towards Vali, and the dark brown wolf actually let him touch his head. Fenris did the same.

"For all the Gamemaker's nasty plots, I got the good ones!" Corson crowed. He walked off, and Fenris and Vali followed him.

Jahall's face was twisted into an angry snarl. "I should turn them on him, just for that!" she cried. However, Terkast gave her an angry look. Their job was to protect the first tribute they met, not maul them.

Terkast smiled, and raked his eyes over the screens. The Chameleon was slowly stealing Wolf's food in the Mesa, the wolves followed Corson, and Joss was still unconscious.

In District Three, Marielle was still slinking among the Estate. She was looking for a secret way in, as to take Asher and his traps by surprise. Bright red eyes glared at her from the bushes, and Marielle screeched.

Jörmungandr hissed quietly and slithered from his hiding place. Marielle froze, but then hurried away. The snake hung his head in disappointment.

"I would go with him," Juniper whispered on the left side of Terkast. He smiled as she continued. "I mean, he isn't harmless or anything, and he looks so sad. Plus, he's kinda cute!"

Baheera grumbled to himself. "Yes, but _they_ don't know he's harmless!" he shot, making the younger Gamemaker be quiet.

"It's getting dark. We should play the anthem in a few seconds," Terkast ordered quietly. The sun sank the last few inches and the anthem blared from the speakers.

Brenda's face was shown first, along with her District number. She had a sad smile, one that knew she wasn't coming home. Kacey was next, and her smile was the complete opposite. It was jubilant and filled with life. It was quiet sad she would never go home.

Funeral's voice came on the speaker, and all the tributes looked up. "Now is the time for voting, tributes! Inside your original pack you will find a piece of paper and a writing utensil. Write down the name of the tribute you would like to see voted off, and then hold it up to the sky. The tribute that will die will be shown on tomorrow night's anthem!"

All the tributes paused, and dug around in their packs. They all pulled out their pads, and a nice luxurious Capitol pen. Some wrote down the name they wanted quickly, but others paused in their writing.

Terkast couldn't wait to see who would be in the majority.

**A/N: Can anyone guess the trend I was going on for the mutts? Well, some of those who were mentioned. **_**They**_** have a pattern! Enjoy, and tell me how my first day went!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: We have the voting. Any ideas of who will be picked? I guess you just have to wait and read! Enjoy, and pwetty pwease review?**

Maylin was sitting by a wall of the big room. She had a wonderful view of the arena screens and the Gamemakers from her vantage point. Occasionally, Baheera would turn around and scowl at her. He had debated heatedly against her joining them, since 'Avoxes are only useful for food!'

Of course, Terkast found for her, and won by a landslide. She'd become quite partial to him, and enjoyed his company. Just _thinking_ of not being by his side for a few hours was difficult, even though she had lived years without him beforehand.

Currently, the Head Gamemaker was silent and staring at the screens with determination. She missed his constant chatter, Maylin decided sadly.

Fandral had just announced it was time to vote a tribute off. She glanced at the screens, and most of the tributes were scribbling fiercely. Maylin sighed sadly. They all knew how to read and write. They knew because they grew up within their respective Districts, while she was taken at the tender age of four. An Avox who could communicate wasn't readily needed, so she was never taught.

The screens were set up in a very organized way. It went in District order, with the males on the top and females on the bottom. Maylin liked it. She'd always been an organized girl, and this just made her smile.

The tribute began to hold up their pieces of paper. Cree held up 'Floyd' triumphantly, her teeth bared in a gruesome smile. Jet was well hidden, but the cameras found him easily. In a surprisingly neat handwriting was 'Cree.'

Floyd had written out 'Cree,' while Tamara had 'Floyd.' The Careers were taking each other out early, since they weren't working together. That meant there wouldn't be a winner this year from One, Two or Four. Maybe District Five would win.

Asher was still writing. Maylin waited patiently, for she couldn't go out of order. He had scribbled out someone else's name and had written 'Floyd' in its place.

Marielle had also written 'Floyd.' The District Three tributes knew that, to survive, they had to take out the strongest. And the Careers were the front runners of that race.

Joss was still unconscious, and couldn't participate in tonight's vote. Caddis put down 'Floyd' as her choice. Clearly, Cree and Floyd were definitely feared in the arena. She wondered what would happen in a tie.

Corson, who was snuggled in with Fenris and Vali, had written out 'Sheave.' Odd, Maylin thought. Marielle had written 'Floyd' in a superfluous script.

Wolf had put out that name, too. Floyd was surely to die tonight. Linea triumphantly presented 'Cree' as her vote. It was hard to read the name since it was written in such a small print.

Harley had a snarl on her face, and 'Gyton' was written in a slapdash. Gyton was close to her geographically, but far enough as to not be seen. He had a handsome smile on; one Maylin knew the Capitol women were fawning over. He had written out 'Cree.'

Vesture had 'Indas' on his paper, which was another odd one. Lavinia smiled toothily, and had 'Floyd' written down. While she was sure the cameras were on her, she pulled the hemline of her shirt up slowly. Maylin looked away before she could see anything else.

Tristan was sitting alone, slightly subdued since his District Partner was dead already. The whole weight of his District was currently residing on his shoulders. He had written 'Tamara,' but Maylin could only pay attention to his sad face.

Arrett was perched in a tree, and the cameras could barely get a good shot of him. He had written 'Cree,' but sharply pulled his paper in when he heard a noise. He peeked his head out when there was no subsequent noise, and then shifted in his apple tree. The twelve-year-old dropped to the ground and began running, a mischievous smile on his face.

Indas had written out 'Cree,' and Livianna 'Floyd.' The two were nearly tied in this deadly game. Maylin retracted her thought of Floyd surely dying tonight. It was a brawl between the two, deciding who would live and die. However, whichever tribute died, Maylin didn't care. Both were evil Careers and didn't deserve to live compared with, say Wolf.

"The vote is in!" Terkast cried, smacking his palm against the control board. Maylin stuffed her fingers in her ears, and quickly read the last names.

Sheave had written out 'Floyd,' and Virgo had 'Tristan.' Terkast was talking furiously, and Maylin cautiously took her fingers out of her ears.

"-mutts. Send them out. Kill Floyd." Jahall nodded at the instructions, and pressed a gold button. 'MUTTS' flashed across her screen, along with quick moving pictures. Each mutt had an individual profile, and there were so many of them! Maylin caught many letters, but was unable to string any of them together.

Floyd's drawn out yell drew her to his screens. "I killed you! I killed you!" he repeated, backing into the bushes. Brenda-Mutt stalked slowly towards him. She was a near-perfect replica, and all created by Jahall. The woman was moving her fingers nimbly over her panel, and the other mutts emerged from the gloom. They were so realistic the tributes would begin to doubt their own identity after a while.

Floyd screamed again, and grabbed for his bow. It wouldn't come loose from the place he had left it: stuck in the ground.

The mutts walked forward, and circled the afraid Career. Maylin thought she heard the wind pick up, but it slowly dawned on her that it was the mutt's whispering. They chanted as they closed in on the tribute.

"Murderer. Murderer!" they chanted, each time higher and angrier than the last. Floyd couldn't move anymore. He dropped to the ground, whimpering in the fetal position.

"I-I-I _had_ to! I have to get home!" he screamed. A dark discoloring appeared on the front of his pants, and Floyd looked up into the faces of his attackers. His face was stained with tears, and he squeaked when his eyes met Brenda-Mutt's.

"I'm sorry," he said. His voice was muffled, and the mutts just laughed. Brenda-Mutt just shook her head, and smiled creepily.

"Too late!" she said in a sing-song voice. It threw Maylin off, because Jahall said the same thing at the same time. Except, the Mutt Designer said it into a microphone. She was controlling the mutt's speech.

Brenda-Mutt raised her hand, and the others surged forward. The circle made it hard to see Floyd, but there was a large cloud of blood in the air. Maylin winced as the youngest – Arrett-Mutt – came away with one of Floyd's hands in his mouth.

The Career's voice was still screaming, but it was going hoarse. With a gurgle, it stopped all together. The mutts backed away when they heard his cannon, and then fled. They were covered in gore, and left a pile of bloody pulp and entrails where Floyd once was.

Maylin felt as if she was going to puke. Is this what would happen every night? It disgusted her, but she supposed it satisfied the Capitol's blood quota for today.

Something rustled in the bushes, and Maylin tensed. Who, if it was a person, saw that terrible display of mutt ferocity?

The twelve-year-old stepped forward, a grimace on his face. Maylin wondered if he saw his mutt rip off Floyd's hand. He probably had. Arrett sprinted to Floyd's discarded bow. The way he went expertly to the position made Maylin think he saw the entire thing.

He counted off the remaining arrows – nine of them – and melted into the shadows. Maylin sat back in her chair, suddenly exhausted. There had been so much excitement and disgust it drained her.

This voting was a good idea. None of the tributes knew who would have voted for them, if they were voted at all. The only way they'd truly know was if they were killed afterwards.

Another Avox was waiting in the corner of the room, her eyes glued to the screens in terror. Maylin remembered those days with a harsh clarity. All the lights and motion confused her greatly then. And if she didn't do what she was told, there were usually extreme repercussions.

She mimed eating to the girl, who looked at Maylin with confusion. Probably wondering why there were no harsh words accompanying the command. The Avox slid away, and Maylin refocused her thoughts on the Game.

Shanna pressed a shiny orange button, and clouds began to form in the arena. Cera screeched and pressed the button in front of Shanna angrily. The clouds lingered, but didn't grow any further.

"It must be flawless!" Baheera hissed. He picked up a thick stack of papers and rustled it angrily in Shanna's face. "For the first night, the weather will alternate between the Districts," he read from the stack. "_Listen!_ 'It will alternate between sweltering hot and ice cold!"

Baheera slapped the papers back together with a successful smile. "Is there anything in there that mentioned _rain_?" he asked icily.

Shanna shook her head, dumbfounded. He pressed a metallic silver button, and the clouds dissipated altogether. Baheera reached over to the Main Controls, but Terkast eyed him with distaste.

"_I _am the only one who can touch the Main Controls," Terkast spat, "thank you." Baheera quickly pulled his arm away, lest he be slapped. Terkast took the lever in the center of the panel in his pure white hand.

The Avox came back with her food. Maylin nodded her read in thanks and picked up some roast groosling. It tasted good, and it made her slightly, ever so slightly, jealous of the District Eleven people. Of course, she could get this food all the time, while they got mostly grains.

Terkast pressed a golden button with a 1 on it, and lowered the lever. Methodically, he pressed the 12 button and raised it. Slowly he went down the line of buttons, until the panel was all lit up and blinking.

The tributes reacted very quickly. Virgo stripped her jacket and moved to a new spot in the Meadow. She patted a new patch of grass down and curled up. The grass was over her head and hid her from possible attackers well.

Jet walked around, not sleeping just yet. He went to Virgo's old grass-spot and laughed lightly when he found the remains of some beef jerky. He settled in the spot and dazed off. Still, his body remained tense and alert.

Maylin slowly chewed her groosling, assessing the situation in front of her. In District Four, Vesture jumped swiftly into the water and paddled around in the shallows. Caddis sat in a dune watching him, her eyes alight with malice. She didn't react with the heat, probably because she was used to it.

In District Six, Wolf pressed himself closer to the cold ground. He was sweating profusely, and pushed off his blanket of flower stems.

Arrett was watching carefully from the trees of District Eleven. He had his new bow clutched tightly in his hand, although the wood was shiny with perspiration. Indas sat by the base of a large peach tree. He was panting and most of his clothes were stripped off. He closed his eyes, and tried nodding off. However, the heat was too much and Indas fell into fretful dreams.

In District Three, Asher sat comfortably in the Estate. The air conditioner was turned on full blast, and he was reading a large book. Marielle was staring in the large window, craftily hidden. She spent her time between glancing at Asher, to looking for Jörmungandr, to slowly fanning herself. She looked so sad.

Maylin had been nibbling the bone for a few seconds without noticing. She placed it down and picked up a fork to play with her greens.

In District Five, Corson woke up suddenly. His face was extremely red and he was gasping for air. With a sharp command, he sent Fenris and Vali farther away. The two obeyed, even though they did so unwillingly.

Frankie didn't change her position at all. She had been sleeping in a quartz throne of President Snow. The quartz hadn't heated up at all, and kept Frankie cold in the undying heat.

Now, Maylin moved systematically onto the colder Districts. She loved being organized. These tributes had it harsher, since they couldn't add anymore clothes onto their skimpy garments. At least the tributes in the hotter Districts could take things off!

In District Eight, Sheave looked for cover. He was in the middle of a giant desert, and there was nothing to keep him warm. Snow from other Districts was beginning to drift into his own. It made the terrain twice as difficult to manage.

Joss groaned loudly and rolled over. However, his eyes remained closed. Sleipnir pricked his ears at the new sound. Jahall inhaled expectantly, waiting for Sleipnir to charge at the boy. But nothing happened. She sat down sadly, grumbling as she did. Lavinia spied Joss, and sat down next to him in the swell. She sang softly and stroked his sweaty head. Her shirt was nearly off, and she got more enthusiastic as she went on. However, the coldness was slowly affecting her as she pulled her jacket on.

In District Two, Cree was huddled onto the face of the mountain. Her breath flowered in front of her, and her shivers were violent. She tried moving her limbs, but they seemed stuck. With a jolt, she forced herself under a safer outcropping of rocks.

She sighed when her heat filled the small area. However, she gasped in shock when a rock in front of her blinked. Jahall laughed lightly as the rock stared at the near-frozen tribute. Cree remained perfectly still, and the mutt rolled off in disinterest. As it left, snow began falling onto the mountainside.

Harley and Gyton were huddled in the forest. Jahall went to turn the trees on again, but Terkast stopped her from doing so. "Let them have some reprieve," he muttered. The trees stopped the snow and offered some warmth for the two tributes. Still, the trees blinked angrily, as if channeling Jahall's feelings.

Tristan wept as he sat alone in District Nine. He did nothing to help his body keep from the cold, and seemed almost to welcome the shivers as they wracked his body.

The last District, Maylin thought. She had no more food left on her plate, and was longing for some dessert. Dessert. Maylin never could've expected that when she was a regular Avox.

In District One's training area, Tamara had ripped apart the sparring dummies. She had wedged herself in them, and put the stuffing overtop herself. She would be safe for the night. Linea wasn't as smart, and huddled within a square of archery targets. It wouldn't've been fair to put weapons in the training area, so it was the fighting gear only.

It was night, Maylin realized. She was extremely tired, and almost passed out then. However, a shrill telephone ring woke her up from her doze.

"Mr. President," Terkast said into the machine. The President talked, but all Maylin could hear was a gruff mumbling.

"Thank you, sir. Yes, thank you," Terkast said, a small smile on his face. "I will, sir. Thank you!" Terkast hung up the phone, and turned to the Gamemakers in front of him.

"That was the President," he said swiftly. The rest of the Gamemakers nodded as if the Head Gamemaker was stupid. "He said," Terkast announced slowly, "that the voting idea was one of the best, and we pulled it off well!"

Everyone cheered, including Maylin. She felt rather guilty, but she wasn't a part of her District anymore even though she dearly wanted to be. "He says there is a long line of sponsors outside the building waiting to help us with the 'awesome' Quell. And he can't wait until tomorrow's voting!"

**A/N: Tada! Te gusta voting? I do. Tune in for more blood and gore in the second day of the 725****th**** Hunger Games!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I hope all of you have had a Merry Christmas, or other holiday! Here's my present to you, in form of an update. **

He was bored. Extremely so. The tributes had suffered through the night, and he averaged the temperatures like was planned. Nobody had died, and he was almost ready to set the mutts on the tributes. The mutts were very valuable this year. Each had their own purpose, and were well suited to it.

Some were used to scare the tributes, while other's main goal were to kill. And all were deftly named, too. Jahall was the one to thank, and Terkast enjoyed her love of old mythology.

It was almost voting time, and the tributes knew that. Some were anticipating it, for it was another soul down that they didn't have to kill themselves. Others were nervous, and kept themselves occupied.

Nothing at all happened. The President would be banging on the Control Room door soon if it happened again. The Capitol wanted blood, and all the tributes did was sleep. Two days and three deaths. Maybe the idea of not having a bloodbath was a bad one…

Fandral's voice came on the speaker, and Terkast tensed. The only picture that would be shown was Floyd's. Would the tributes become lazy since their one of their greatest predators was dead? He hoped not.

The tributes wrote on their pieces of paper, and Terkast skimmed across the screens. Mainly Careers again. He would have to change the idea of the voting soon, otherwise there wouldn't be as much blood as he wanted.

Eight for Tamara. Six for Joss. Five for Cree. There was no dissent this time, and the tributes were split between three.

"Tamara wins," Terkast muttered, keeping his voice down. District Two was out of the running, which was funny in a way. Floyd and Tamara were the top picks of this year's tributes.

A scream of fury came from the other side of the computer barrier. Terkast froze, and then laughed as Demelza began a big rant. "Send in the mutts, will you, Jahall?" he asked nonchalantly.

Jahall smirked, and pressed the metallic button. The mutts poured out through an entrance in the arena, and Terkast glanced at her screen. Today's main tribute-mutt would be Kacey. Tamara knew she was dead, and would lead the attack quite nicely.

Tamara woke with a start as one of the dummies shifted. She climbed outside warily, her hands raised in front of her face. She had no weapon, and crept around silently.

"Come out, coward!" she cried. Tamara kicked aside the dummy that moved, and screamed when Kacey jumped up. "Dead!"

"Of course I am," the mutt said. The others materialized out of nowhere, and walked towards her. She screamed and cowered, just like her District counterpart. With a cry of anguish, Tamara got up and ran through the Training Area. She hurtled passed Linea, who looked on in mild confusion.

The mutts were close behind, yelling and screaming like hounds after their prey. "Come on, coward!" Gyton-mutt mimicked, throwing himself at her heels. She kicked at his head, but he just shook himself off and continued after her. They were the bodies of the mutts with the minds of bloodthirsty wolves.

Some were falling back, and others sprinted ahead. Jet-mutt was the frontrunner, and constantly made fun of Tamara. She broke the line between District Two, and the mutts followed. A look of hope came into Tamara's eyes, since she recognized the area. Her flight pattern was simple enough now, Terkast realized. She was running desperately across District One to get to the one place she knew.

"Kill her quickly," Terkast demanded, "she knows this area better than the mutts."

Jahall grimaced, but shifted a series of sliders. A harsh beep sounded, but she ignored it. The mutts reacted on screen. Those who had been lagging behind quickly caught up, and Tamara screeched as she sensed their new speed.

Lavinia-Mutt cut in front of Tamara, and caught underfoot. With a squeal, Tamara hit the ground. She aimed a few kicks and punches, but all were in vain. The mutts created a similar blood-cloud, and Tamara was no more.

The mutts vanished into the arena ground as the hovercraft picked Tamara up. Terkast assumed it would be heart wrenching to get nothing more than a pile of gore for a dead tribute. At least the previous tributes were _mostly_ whole.

A faint amount of motion alerted Terkast, and he swiveled his head to find out who it was. Cree sat on the mountainside, a smirk on her lips. Sadly, she didn't know how close she was the one to die.

Cree walked down to the bloodstain and touched the ground. Her fingers came up wet, and she sniffed it carefully. Tamara hadn't taken her pack, so there was nothing for Cree to plunder.

"Times up for this District," she muttered, and hoisted her own pack on her shoulder. She laughed lightly as she jogged out of District Two and into the orchards of District Eleven. It must be her time to hunt. She'd had enough rest.

A young Avox, perhaps around eight years old, came around to Terkast. He raised his eyebrow and took the slip of paper the boy offered. 'Harley – axe – sturdy.' Attached to the note was a large sum of money.

"Send Harley Wiskon a _sturdy_ axe," Terkast ordered. "One worth… one thousand dollars. Make it good, though. I want to see what she can do with it."

Hulton nodded furiously, and pressed his own set of buttons. Terkast placed the money in a cup in front of him, waiting for the parcel to drop. Soon, he would have a very nice collection of money. Most would go towards the planning of next year's Games, but a fair sum would be his; his 'Christmas Bonus' if you will.

Harley stopped drawing in the dirt when she heard the noise. It was a very distinct noise, one that all tributes should recognize. Her face lit up as she saw the parachute and the weapon attached to it.

The axe landed with a large thud, and Harley quickly unwrapped it. It shone bright silver in the moon's light, and had a thick wooden handle. "Thank you, Tusion!"

She played with it for a few seconds, before deciding it was acceptable. With a large swing, she destroyed the nearest tree, clearing it from its roots.

Jahall cried out in anger. "Why would she do that? They didn't do anything to her today! It took me forever to come up with the concept! I'll kill her!"

"No," Terkast commanded. "Let her do damage to other tributes. We can't have _too_ many mutt deaths."

Jahall seethed in her chair, but Tusion's loud cheering drowned her out. Harley played with her weapon, making quick work of the surrounding trees, each felled made Jahall angrier.

"Terkast?" A voice called. The Head Gamemaker turned around in surprise, before being confronted by Demelza and Avery. "Thank you for the wonderful Games," Avery said.

Demelza tried smiling, but it was hard and cold. "Shame about the voting, though. We're heading back, see you next year."

Terkast got out of his spinny-chair, and shook both of their hands. This made both the previous tributes smile, because he was showing them immense respect. He wouldn't do this to any others, but had forged somewhat of an acquaintanceship with them.

They left, and Terkast sat down once more. Harley had finished playing, leaving a new clearing in the forest. "Gyton?" she called, over and over. The axe was strapped to her back, mostly concealed by her clothing. "I'm sorry, Gyton. We should be allies!"

Harley's calling was going unnoticed, but was soon to attract attention. Terkast bounced up and down in anticipation of the wrong person hearing Harley's calls. Perhaps Cree would come to take her down? That battle would be amazing.

"You sure?" Gyton asked as he jumped down from a tree. The tree clicked its eyes angrily and waved its branches, but did nothing to harm the two.

"I promise," she said, holding out her hand. He reached out warily, but shook it. Gyton smiled, and began to talk to his District partner. Terkast could almost hear the screams across all of Panem – especially from Gyton's family.

"Why did you volunteer anyway? You look just like a Career." Harley was definitely flirting, and Gyton was falling for it.

He laughed lightly, and opened his mouth to explain. "Well, I'd been training for a few years and –"

"That's all I needed to hear," Harley snarled. Gyton looked at her in confusion, but she quickly pushed him to the ground. He looked up as she pulled her axe from her back, and Terkast saw fear in his eyes. "This is for betraying your District, you filthy Career!"

Harley aimed a swift swing at his head, a cruel grimace on her face. Gyton raised his hand to protect himself, and screamed as that hand was chopped off. "I… I did it for a reason!" he tried to explain. Blood gushed freely from the wound, but Harley didn't care. She laughed maniacally, and aimed another swing.

A gash appeared in his arm, coating both of them in blood. With a downwards chop, Harley cleaved Gyton's head in two.

She spat on the ground next to him as the cannon went off. "District Seven is not about _Careers._ We are a _respectable _people. Think about that next time. Oh wait, there is no next time! Enjoy death, freak!"

Harley walked swiftly away from the body and back into the forest of District Seven. Jahall looked at the scene in front of her, her mouth wide open.

"And you wanted to kill her with _trees._ I think this is a better solution," Terkast said smugly, rubbing the Mutt Designer's words in her face.

The arena was actually quite beautiful. The moon shone on the tributes, and illuminated special things such as the ocean. The fight between Harley and Gyton had taken a while, and it was almost dawn. Soon, the sun would rise and the temperatures would even out again.

Unlike last night, the temperatures were switched. The Districts that were hot were now cold and vice versa. It kept the tributes on edge, and it was quite fun to watch them shiver.

Terkast scoured the screens, looking for anything interesting. Joss seemed to be awake now, and Lavinia was tending to his head wound. Terkast knew that Lavinia was just with him for protection, but Joss didn't necessarily know that.

"So, baby," she started, playing with Joss' dark ginger hair. "Who do you think was killed tonight?"

Joss was clearly enjoying the attention from this District Eight whore. "Probably one of the Careers. You know the strongest go first in this voting game stuff."

Lavinia laughed, and placed her hands on Joss' cheeks. "But, aren't you a Career?" she asked in an annoying lilting voice. Joss leaned in and kissed her, silencing any words that were to come after.

"Was. Was is the key word. I ain't allying with them if they keep dying off. I'll be on my own anyway. At least this way I get you."

Lavinia laughed again, and laid Joss' head in her lap. "True. Go to sleep. Dawn's almost here and we've been up almost the entire night. I'll be a good watch!" She giggled the last bit, and it annoyed Terkast to no end.

"Yeah," Joss sighed, closing his eyes. His smile never faltered, and Lavinia resumed playing with his hair. Terkast wondered what would happen to them, if their so called 'romance' would actually affect anything in these Games. He was unsure whether it would have a positive or negative effect.

Nothing else happened, really. Cree walked through District Eleven calmly, seemingly taking her time. Arrett watched from a pear tree, his bow tensed. The arrow was placed deftly inside, and he tightened it as she passed underneath.

He shifted slightly in the tree, and Cree heard the noise. She sprinted forward, and Arrett cursed. He let loose the waiting arrow, and it imbedded itself in Cree's calf. She grunted in pain, but didn't slow her sprint.

Arrett didn't follow because he knew that he wouldn't compare at all to Cree fighting hand to hand. With a snarl, he dropped his bow's sights. He couldn't reach her from here, and he already lost another arrow. He wouldn't survive without the bow and arrow, and he couldn't go shooting them willy-nilly.

Cree ran into the center of the circle, and stared in awe at the plethora of Districts in front of her. She could see all of them at the same time. She fell to the ground with a grunt, and slowly worked the arrow's shaft out of her leg. There was a large hole, but it wasn't bleeding that much.

"I can go on," she grumbled, taking her pack off violently and searching inside. "Nothing medical. My luck," she spat. Cree gasped when she saw something moving in District Four and hobbled after it, gaining speed as she went.

Terkast laughed giddily. This was going a lot better than before! Two deaths today, so the total was up to five! Sadly, none of the weaker tributes had died off, but that could easily be fixed.

Nothing interesting much in any of the other Districts. Jet avoided Livianna and Virgo deftly, and Terkast was surprised that none of them had met yet. Surely the District wasn't _that_ big.

Indas sat in District Eleven, munching a soft peach. He was nowhere near Arrett, but he had heard Cree's flight. The brute was on the defensive, but there was nobody near him.

Tristan practiced his boomerang in District Nine, and Sheave slept in Eight. In Six, Wolf sung happily, picking flowers in a bunch. He cried out in joy when he saw a cluster of elderberries, and sat munching them. The Chameleon was behind Wolf, and slowly picked off berries from the pile. Wolf didn't seem to notice, which made the Chameleon even happier.

Out of the mutts, the Chameleon was deadly in a different way. He stole food to feed his undying hunger, and slowly starved his tributes. So far, he had liberated a good day's food from Wolf, yet the boy didn't notice.

The Chameleon could be compared to a child in the Districts, Terkast thought. They were always hungry. Plus, the mutt looked like a human. When he wasn't camouflaged, that is.

Corson played fetch with Fenrir and Vali, enjoying the beast's presence. He hadn't seen their killing powers in action, and Terkast hoped it would be soon. It would hopefully break Corson's devotion to the deadly mutts.

The sun rose on the horizon, and Terkast slowly pulled the levers to a middle position. The tributes looked up as the temperature changed, but he knew that all of them were grateful.

Maylin shifted in her chair, and Terkast turned around. He had totally forgotten her. He hoped that she had no hard feelings, but the bloodlust of the Games had totally taken over him. He oft ignored his loved ones during the Games. They were just tittering insects that bugged his conscious and thoughts during this vital time.

He waved to her, and she waved back. She looked tired, but a smile broke out on her face when he acknowledged her. "Get some sleep," he told her, but she shook her head. "Nothing bad's going to happen, I promise. Go to bed."

She became frustrated, but stood up anyway. Another Avox came to assist her, but Maylin just shoved them away. She knew the way to her own bed, and she stomped off angrily. Terkast stifled a surprised laugh. It seemed he had offended her more that he sent her away than being ignored!

Frankie was testing out her traps, and sat happily on a stone statue of President Raven. It was a beautiful onyx statue with the female President sitting in a large throne. Frankie had placed her wires all around a small area of statues, and had taken to sleep in the onyx one.

Caddis slept on the dunes of District Four. She was well hidden, for she had dug a hole in the sand, and the grass blew wavy over her head.

Marielle was working on the lower half of the Estate's windows, and forced it open. She cried out in happiness, and slipped inside. Asher looked up from his book, but quickly dismissed the noise. Marielle went inside the kitchen, intent on getting food and safety. She didn't bother with Asher, for she didn't want any contact with the boy. It would do well to wait until another night, when she wasn't so hungry.

Linea came upon Tamara's nest of dummies, and sighed in relief. "She's dead!" she cried out in joy, and took to examining the nest. Jahall laughed quietly, and pressed a button.

A few dogs flooded the District. They watched Linea carefully, and began talking. "Cree's gone after Vesture. She's coming after you next," a large lavender one whispered, edging closer to the tribute. Linea cried out in fear, and looked around for them.

The lavender one snickered carefully, and was soon approached by a large blonde one. They began to taunt the tribute, who cried out and covered her ears.

Terkast didn't know why she did that, for the dogs were giving useful information, such as where each of the tributes were.

"Nice enough to add your dogs in there," Terkast said, talking to Jahall. She smiled, but continued to watch the screens.

"Trunks and Sayuh know what they're doing. They lead the pack well. Sadly, I have to take away their talking ability when I get them back, but I think they suffice now."

Terkast nodded. The dogs were beautiful guard dogs, and it must be killing them to leave the tribute alone. Linea cowered down, and the dogs moved in closer. They wouldn't stop taunting her, but Linea could escape if she realized they wouldn't attack her.

Vesture screamed, drawing Terkast to his screens. Cree dashed after him, the pain in her leg temporarily forgotten.

The boy slipped on the sand, but still maintained a lead on the District One girl. However, she was steadily gaining and would kill him in a few minutes time. Joss shouted in triumph as he saw his previous resting place, but screamed as his traps caught him. His foot was chopped off, and Cree approached warily.

"Caught by your own trap, ah?" she criticized, careful to where she placed her feet. Cree eyed the pack on his back. "Shame it's your downfall."

She swiftly pulled the tomahawk from her back and brandished it at Vesture. "Dead!" she pronounced, and brought the weapon down. Vesture's head parted from his body and flew across the sand. Cree laughed as it landed. She took his pack and began another trek to find more victims.

"Sad the Victor's son couldn't give us more desirable effects," Terkast muttered, pressing buttons. The sun was now high in the sky, and it would soon be time for another vote. Maybe there would be further bloodshed today? It would surely make the Capitol happy.

Terkast sipped from a goblet of wine as an Avox brought over another slip of paper. Ah, the duties of a Gamemaker.

**A/N: Done! Please review with your thoughts! Oh, and I have a poll up on my profile. Go vote on it, please!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Last new chapter for this year. I can't believe it's already 2012, but I can assure you that I'll still be here. Enjoy!**

Maylin thundered down the hallway, barely looking up from her running feet. She was extremely irritated that she had slept for longer than she intended. Shouldn't Terkast have sent someone to wake her up?

Of course, it wasn't exactly his fault. She _had_ been upset and stormed out of the Control Room. Maylin skidded to a stop in front of the gilt elevator and jammed the button incessantly. She tapped her toe on the plush golden carpet, and kept her eyes on the golden grate.

With a grumble, Maylin pressed the button a few times. Of course, when she needed it most it was late. But if they were off to a trivial affair, it was there at _one_ push of the button.

The elevator slid up to her floor, and Maylin got into the elevator. She pressed the Z-26 button, and waited as the elevator took her up. She held down her queasiness with a determined gaze, and willed the thing to go faster.

The elevator seemed to creep up the floors. It landed on the top floor with a jarring 'thud,' and Maylin clenched her teeth. Slowly, ever so slowly, it moved horizontally. Terkast promised that nothing would have happened, but she knew that something did. Maylin was unsure of who died, and who killed them for that matter, but it was of the utmost importance.

She had slept four hours over the limit of five she had given herself, and it was now almost night. God, what if she missed another Careers death? She liked those best, and took immense relish in them. Just thinking of all the District Five people they've taken out sent shivers up her arms. Surely they deserved it.

The elevator dinged as it arrived at the floor, and Maylin had to slow herself to not hit the shiny doors. She broke out into the short hallway, her footsteps ringing off the black tile. She passed the stinging white walls, and waited in front of the shiny, metallic door.

It beeped in recognition of her form, and Maylin quickly slipped inside. Yup, just as she thought. The anthem could be heard through the entire room as it played to the arena. The tributes watched carefully, their eyes raking the sky for the tributes that would never return to their families.

Tamara from District Two. Maylin knew that she had died. She had watched the tributes pulling her apart the night before. Gyton from District Seven. She had seen that one, too. Harley had gotten her vengeance, and it was fun to watch her twist him before she killed him. Hopefully the killings ended there.

Maylin groaned when another picture appeared to her. Vesture from District Eight. She wondered how he died, and felt a slight resentment towards Terkast for not keeping his promise. Of course, it did keep the President off his back.

She settled into her seat and watched the screens. The next voting would soon take place, and she would _hate_ to miss these. She wondered how Vesture died, and it began eating her up inside. Yet, she had no way of asking someone. Maylin sighed angrily; she guessed she'd never find out.

In District One, Linea held up a card that said 'Harley.' Terkast spit out the drink he had been sipping delicately and cursed. "I thought it would be the Careers!" he said jubilantly. "I guess they figured that Harley's had a vendetta against Gyton, and that she killed him."

Maylin continued to look at the screens. She was getting better at reading. Now, she knew the names of the tributes in the arena, since she had been staring at their names for more than a week now. Sadly, Maylin didn't know the letters, but realized that when they were combined they made up a name.

Asher was standing in the large bay window, and had 'Cree' written out on his. It seems that people were still after the bloodthirsty girl from District One. Marielle was sitting on a balcony on the second floor. She was half asleep, but had 'Joss' on her card.

Caddis sat in her grass, completely happy in the sand. It made Maylin laugh. Since she had no pack, she didn't hunt for tributes. Careers were actually quite pathetic. She held up her card with 'Joss' on it. Maybe Joss would be ripped apart tonight. Maylin didn't care either way.

Cree was down by the waterside, unaware of Caddis' close proximity. She too had written out 'Harley.' It seemed those who could put two and two together realized that Harley could actually be a threat.

Frankie shifted in her seat, and held up a card with 'Harley.' You could always count on the smarter Districts putting two and two together. It _was_ their job, for that matter. Corson played with the pen, but finally wrote 'Sheave.'

It seemed the clear-cut choices of yesterday were over. Everyone was back to voting for who they thought was their greatest threat, and everyone had a different opinion of that.

Wolf was sitting in District Six. His stomach rumbled a lot, and one could see starvation occurring. His eyes were sunken in and lifeless. He held up 'Caddis' while the Chameleon watched him carefully.

Harley was in District Seven, carefully writing out a name. She sat in the clearing she made the day before, to make sure that the trees couldn't harm her. She had written out 'Indas.'

Sheave was curled up in the Desert, his back to a hard rock formation. He held up 'Harley' for a short period of time, but became bored. With an angry sigh, he got up and walked to the edge of the District. He examined the salty water that appeared just over the invisible line, and dipped his feet in.

Tristan was in District Nine, and held up 'Harley.' He hadn't done much since the first day. Maybe he was sad as to what he did to the young thirteen year old? Maylin couldn't tell, but she didn't feel any remorse for him. He wasn't making these Games fun at all.

Joss and Lavinia were cuddled together, giggling. Both of them had written out 'Cree.' Maylin could see Terkast's mouth twitching upward in disgust, and she laughed herself. He was just so funny sometimes.

Arrett was perched in a tree, like always. He had his bow clamped between his knees as he proudly showed 'Harley.' None had realized the little boy's potential for death, and Maylin doubted he had any. He got a bad training score, and he was a bad personality. Indas was dozing, but had 'Cree' written out on the card propped on his leg.

In District Twelve, Jet had written out 'Sheave.' Virgo had 'Cree' on her card, and Livianna had 'Harley.'

Quickly, Maylin counted up the votes. The majority was Cree and Harley. The District One girl had five votes, and the District Seven girl had seven. It was clear as to who was dying tonight.

The moon floated higher in the sky, showing time passing. Terkast waited longer than he did with the other tributes. Maybe to increase the tension? Or was it to show that he could do anything he wanted? Maylin wasn't sure.

She began dozing, her eyelids fluttering closed. Maylin shook herself awake, unsure of why she was falling asleep. Didn't she just get a nice rest before? Her eyes started to droop again, before being woken by the sound of Terkast's voice.

"I think that's enough time. Would you do the honors, Jahall?" the Head Gamemaker asked, completely focused on the screens in front of him. Harley was to die tonight, and she had no clue.

"Who's tonight's leader?" Hulton asked, turning to Jahall. He wore an excited expression, and Maylin couldn't help but laugh at him. He was a newer Gamemaker, and it could be seen rather easily. Everything that happened awed him.

"You'll see," she said mysteriously, and pressed the button. Like before, the mutts flooded from the ground. Gyton-mutt was first, an evil smirk on his face. Harley noticed Gyton-mutt coming from the gloom, and dropped the berries she was eating.

"What? I heard your cannon… how? Gamemakers!" she snarled angrily. Harley picked up her axe and brandished it to Gyton-mutt. "I killed you once. Prepare to die again."

Gyton-mutt laughed quietly, and stepped forward. Harley stepped backwards, her fearless expression faltering. The others came from the trees, and Harley's face paled. With a screech, she turned and ran through the forest.

The trees exacted their revenge on the tribute. They swung their heavy limbs at her, and pelted her with seeds. However, Harley ignored their futile efforts and kept running.

Maylin frowned. All the tributes have ran when presented with the mutts. She expected somewhat of a fight, yet there was none. It disappointed her, although it was fun to watch the tributes chase down their prey.

Indas-mutt edged close enough to Gyton-mutt, but the District Seven mutt pushed him down. He wanted the kill all to himself. Harley breached the invisible line that divided District Three and District Seven.

Finally out in the open, Harley turned and made a stand. She held her axe out for the mutts to see, and they circled her. Maylin could see both Asher and Marielle glancing at the fight just outside the Estate with interest. Jörmungandr's eyes could be seen through the darkness, and Marielle shied away from him.

Harley cried out as she launched herself at the mutts. She cut off Frankie's head, and the mutts watched as it rolled off into the forest. Jahall cried out in anger.

"It will take forever to put them back together! I'm going to kill this girl! She's just making nuisances for my mutts!"

Maylin, however, didn't mind as much. At least Harley was putting up a fight. Jahall moved a lever, and the mutts began to close in on her. Harley didn't scream, but began to swing her axe all around.

The mutts couldn't feel pain, so there were no screams. However, Lavinia fell to the ground, clearly dead. Others had mild injuries, but Maylin cringed when Harley began to scream. She screamed in pain and anger, and the mutts took her apart slowly.

There was no cloud of blood, but as the mutts pulled apart, Maylin could see the pile of gore. Soon, the hovercraft came. Using the scoop, it gathered all of Harley's remains and transported them to the Capitol.

Maylin shuddered in her seat, all traces of sleep forgotten. She liked it better when it was fast. Of course, the cloud of blood was horrific, but she didn't have to hear their screams as long.

She scanned the screens, and her eyes fell on the 'couple' in District Ten. Lavinia was crooning to Joss, who slept soundly. With a soft kiss to the lips, she got up and stared at him from above. "Sorry, babe. It's time for me to go. Thanks for the food, though!"

The District Eight girl wandered through District Ten, and froze when she spotted Sleipnir. The eight-legged horse trotted over to the girl, and sniffed her carefully. He whinnied quietly, but turned and left Lavinia alone. The girl let out a pent up breath, and continued on her way.

Maylin didn't get why she was leaving Joss. The ex-Career could protect her well, and he had food to spare. Well, now he didn't have food. But before he did!

Terkast grumbled to himself, watching the horizon beginning to lighten. The deaths were spread out through the days, and it was annoying him she could tell. She used to watch the Games, and see at least 10 deaths in the bloodbath. Maylin doubted they were up to that number now.

She scanned the screens again. Nothing very interesting. A lot of them, like Jet and Arrett, had finally settled down to sleep.

Terkast grumbled again, and Maylin saw him playing with a large red button that read 'FIRE.' She had no clue what 'FIRE' was, but she knew it was deadly. She knew that because anything involving the Games was deadly.

He said a few quick words to Jahall, and the Mutt Designer's lips tightened. However, she nodded, and Terkast pressed the button.

Maylin saw the bright tongues of the flames, and gasped. She put the button and the flames together, and gasped. What District was this in? Who would die?

District Five. She saw Corson being nudged by the two wolves. He awoke with a start, and coughed from the thick smoke that poured from the fire. He wiped his face, since soot was beginning to build up.

The fire ate through the Park, unbiased as to what statues would face its wrath. Some of the stone crumbled underneath the intense heat, but most of it stayed.

Corson stumbled through the District, Fenrir and Vali nudging them. They were his protectors, and they would make sure Corson would get out. The District Five boy was getting weaker, especially since the smoke was beginning to thicken.

Frankie awoke with a screech. She put her hand in front of her face, and almost fainted when she saw the skin had begun to blister. The onyx statue of the first female President was heating to an immense temperature, and Frankie's entire body was slowly cooking.

The statue was surrounded by flame, making it look like Raven was the Queen of the Underworld. She sat nonchalant on her throne as the fire brewed around her and Frankie burned.

The girl jumped down from her sleeping place, and tottered over the hot ground. She collapsed, and gasped happily at the cleaner air. Frankie began to crawl forward, away from the flames.

Maylin smiled as she saw her progress. Frankie was sure to make it, as was Corson. There would be no District Five deaths today, surely.

The Avox's smile faltered when Frankie stopped. Maylin was about to shout out, but figuratively held her tongue in the present company. Why had she stopped?

"I love when trap-makers get trapped," Juniper announced gleefully, rubbing her hands together. Trapped? Frankie was trapped?

Maylin realized that Frankie was stuck inside the ring of statues by her own design. Her copper wire was a death sentence, and Frankie was faced with a horrible decision.

Would she stay and be burned alive, or go forth and be lacerated to death? With a determined grimace, Frankie moved forward. She cried out in pain, but worked her way through the trap. Scratches adorned her face and body, and she was bleeding heavily, but Frankie made it out.

She cried out triumphantly, but stopped. Frankie's face paled as she looked behind her. Her pants were stuck in a loop of the trap, and she was stuck.

The District Five girl went to untie herself, but hissed as she felt the hot metal. The fire was growing closer and closer. Frankie closed her eyes, and accepted her fate. She had tried to escape and failed. Surely it was her own stupidity that caused her to die?

Maylin looked away when she heard Frankie's screams. They were even worse that the yells of those being torn apart by the mutts. These screams were of pure agony.

She looked to Corson for reassurance. Surely he had made it out? The Avox laughed silently when she realized he was so close to escaping. The fire was still a few hundred yards off from him, and Corson was on the border of District One.

However, he too was paused. He looked from Fenrir to Vali, and tried to make the two come with him. They wouldn't, and Maylin suddenly understood why Jahall was upset. Her mutts couldn't leave the District they were assigned. Fenrir and Vali would surely die. The fire roared closer and closer, and soon it was merely twenty feet away.

Vali head butted Corson out of the District, and yelped as the flames consumed his dark brown body. Fenrir stayed silent, but Corson was crying out. Tears dripped down his face, but he dared not to go any farther.

The fire had stopped automatically at the District border, and formed a wall of flame. Now, it would just completely consume Frankie and the entirety of District Five. Maylin felt a sadness as she saw her home District being charred, but dismissed it. It's not like the _real_ Park was dead. Also, it wasn't like she was going back to her old District. As much as she hated to say it, she belonged in the Capitol now. Although, she didn't hate saying it as much as she did before.

Everyone's eyes were on the screens filled with fire. Nobody could use District Five anymore, since it would be a barren wasteland.

Another Avox jolted Terkast out of the fire-induced trance. He read the note she gave to him silently, and then dismissed her quickly. The older woman went back to the Victor's side with a nonplussed expression. She must be used to this.

"Hulton?" Terkast called. The newer Gamemaker turned to his Head excitedly.

"Yes?" he asked, his fingers doing a little dance on his control panel. "Who needs something? Is it good?"

Terkast laughed a little to himself, but Maylin knew he was much more amused. "Jet gets something today."

Hulton spasmed in excitement and Maylin watched him. Was that normal? She hoped not. "An expensive, reliable dagger for Jet. Worth nine hundred dollars."

The Gamemaker laughed jubilantly, and pressed a few buttons. He looked through a list of daggers before selecting one he thought looked nice. "Bombs away," Hulton muttered, but Maylin heard it easily.

The parachute fell down from the sky easily, and graced Jet's feet. The boy jerked awake, expecting an attack. His tense expression faded to one of complete and utter joy as he picked it up.

It was an intricate piece, the hilt made completely of gold and studded with jewels. The blade shone wickedly, and drew blood as Jet tested it lightly. Jet smiled, and Maylin could see Terkast mirroring that smile.

He was probably hoping that he would finally go and kill of Livianna or Virgo now. The District was large, but not big enough to hold three tributes. Jet practiced a little, but it was more in jabbing motions than in sweeping ones.

Maylin could tell he was skilled in the weapon. It would make sense, though. He was the tribute that snuck around and stole, rather than smash things in a fury. He would be well paired with a dagger than with a sword.

Maylin glanced around the screens once more. Everyone was awake now, and most were staring into the distance. They watched the pillar of smoke rise into the air, and taint the beautiful sunrise.

The tributes were lucky they hadn't been caught in the blaze, and she felt extremely bad for Frankie. A cannon went off, and it startled the Avox. It had taken the girl that long to die? Her last moments must have felt like years. Years filled with agony and tears.

Maylin turned away from the smoke, and focused on the other tributes. Some had begun to move around, and Corson was still crying as he moved through the Training Area.

She couldn't wait for more bloodshed. The fourth day had begun, and she wanted to see some action. Mutts were interesting, but not as good as tribute against tribute.

A slight pang of guilt struck Maylin, but she quickly brushed it off. If she was doomed to life in the Capitol, she might as well go for a good life. And that meant enjoying the Hunger Games.

**A/N: To all my loyal fans, I have a poll up on my profile. I would love if you all voted on it, because I want to see which of my tributes you like best! Please vote and review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Read. Read and enjoy this chapter, my pretties! A poll too, by the way. **

Another day, more deaths. Or so Terkast hoped it went. The Games were dragging out nicely, and the President seemed content for the time being. The Capitol was a bit more subdued than previous years since it was a Quarter Quell. Plus, the lapse in deaths allowed them to do important things, such as go to work or school.

The child Avox from before waited patiently behind Terkast, swaying in spot. The Gamemaker looked him over once before taking the slip of paper. The child gave a brief grin and darted back to the other side.

Terkast wondered vaguely how the child had become an Avox as he turned around. "Hulton?" Terkast called out.

The younger Gamemaker turned with extreme excitement. It would wear off in a few years, when he had seen near a thousand children die. But, the excitement was to be expected the first year. Gamemaker is a position all the children of the Capitol want, and to actually _become_ one? He remembered he was ecstatic about it, too.

"A nice sickle for Livianna. One thousand. I figure she has sponsors because she's just so… _bubbly._" Terkast took the money and placed it in the cup. The Quarter Quell gave people a better reason to sponsor tributes, and he would make out quite nicely this year.

Livianna was sitting alone in District Twelve, softly crooning to herself. Her voice wasn't half bad, Terkast thought to himself. She looked up when she saw the package and gave a squeal of delight.

"Now two of them have weapons," he muttered, keeping his eyes glued to the screens. Would someone in District Twelve die today? He hoped so, for that District had been filled with boredom. His fingers immediately found the fire button, and he played with it for a few seconds.

With a sigh, Terkast decided against it. Maybe some other District, to lessen the amount of space the tributes had to hide in. That would be a good idea.

Livianna swung the sickle a few times, and Terkast shivered at the whooshing noise it made through the air. If she held some level of competence with the weapon, she could do considerable damage.

All the other Gamemakers were carefully watching their screens, mirroring Terkast. His eyes were beginning to tire from the harsh light, but his body wouldn't for a while. He smiled, thinking of the drugs in the 'wine' he was constantly sipping.

They were extreme supplements that only he really knew about. And, of course, the personal scientists that created them. Nobody wanted to miss out on the Games, and he had a perfect reason not to.

A noise came from the other side of the screen, and Terkast quickly refocused his dozing eyes. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Were the Victors losing their touch? There was nothing going on in the arena… except… Lavinia slowly trekked through District Twelve.

Terkast grumbled. _Another_ tribute in District Twelve? It's not like it was even pretty! And, he guessed, nobody would even kill her. He was more frustrated that there was nobody in District Two, yet Twelve was _crawling_ with the vermin!

Lavinia slowly skirted the sleeping Virgo. No death there. This girl was just_ asking_ to die by mutts. The fire button called out to him again, but Terkast turned from it. No, that would cost four tributes that wouldn't have their blood spattered all over the arena. The Capitol wouldn't like that; no, not one bit.

She darted towards the form of Jet, and Terkast realized exactly what she was doing. By skipping around with guys, they would have to protect her. And then, subsequently, die from her stealing ways. It was actually a good strategy for a whore with no other good attributes.

Jet watched her approach, and Terkast could easily see the mixture of emotions on his face. Confusion, contempt and suspicion were vividly prominent. He sat up as she approached, and Lavinia clearly put on the 'sexiness.'

"Hey, baby," she cooed in a soft, giggly voice when she had reached Jet's earshot. The tribute wrinkled his nose, and Terkast unconsciously copied the act. It was quite disgusting the way the District Eight girl threw herself at others.

"Hello," Jet replied, the answer short and clipped. It was evident he wasn't much in an 'allies' mood.

"You seem _really_ strong, babe. You can protect me, can't you?" Lavinia pouted, her eyes widening to their full extent. However, the sexy act wasn't working. It might have been the fact that the girl hadn't showered in more than three days and had no amount of makeup on. Or that Jet wasn't a person one could easily get over on.

"Yes, I could." Again, the clipped voice. He was trying to tell Lavinia something, but she obviously wasn't listening.

"What a gentleman," Juniper whispered into her hands. Terkast laughed lightly, and thought on her reasonings. He _was_ warning her, however subtly, that he had a weapon.

Lavinia got even closer to Jet, and Terkast could see the District One tribute stiffen. "Good then," Lavinia purred, and hugged Jet. She twisted her lower half seductively against the boy, and Jet made a strangled noise.

With a snarl, he whipped out his dagger and sank it into the girl's back. Lavinia stumbled backwards, falling backwards into the mud. She grappled a few times for the dagger, but it was stuck in a clever place where she couldn't reach.

"W-W-Why?" she forced out, her breath growing short. Jet laughed stiffly, and walked behind Lavinia. She tried to follow his movements, but stopped as she cried out in pain. A large blood bubble erupted from her nose, coating the lower half of her face in the slick liquid.

Jet examined the dagger's hilt, easily avoiding Lavinia's death scrabbles. He stood up abruptly, and aimed a deft kick at the weapon. Lavinia screamed as the dagger was forced deeper into her body.

"I have a girlfriend," Jet said simply. He reached for his weapon and pulled it out, but not before twisting it in Lavinia's back. Terkast winced as he heard the snap of bones breaking.

The District Eight whore writhed on the ground, her breathing extremely short. Blood poured from the thin dagger wound in her back, and also came freely from her mouth.

Jet bent down, and Lavinia's eyes filled with hope. The District One boy laughed heartily as he saw this. He instead grabbed a chunk of her shirt and cleaned the weapon back to perfection. "You thought I would save you? Good one," he laughed.

Lavinia bubbled more blood, her strangled cries barely reaching her lips. Jet walked off, whistling a happy tune, and the whore began to cry.

Terkast could see Virgo and Livianna watching reproachfully. They knew he was vicious, which was why they had been avoiding him. The voting would soon take place, and Terkast knew that Jet was on the list of those who could be considered dead.

Jahall was muttering into her microphone, talking about Jet. Terkast looked around, and realized she was talking to her dogs. They were extremely loyal to the Mutt Designer, and did exactly as they were told. Terkast once had a lucky chance to meet the two, and he had to say he liked the one named Trunks better.

The dogs immediately began whispering, beginning to creep upon Linea and Corson. Linea screamed when she saw Sayuh bearing down with her half of the pack. The girl tried to run, but was surrounded. "Jet's killed Lavinia. She was defenseless," the dogs began to growl. Linea hyperventilated by the wrestling mats, and curled up for another night of being in isolation.

Corson, however, took the dogs in stride. "You look like my wolves," he said wistfully, taking a few steps towards them. The rest of the pack skittered backwards, but Trunks help his place. From beneath the dog's lips came an angry growl as his lavender hackles began to raise.

"Ok, no touching. Got it." Corson took a step backwards, and the rest of the pack returned to the forefront. Terkast laughed at this action, because Corson did exactly what they weren't expecting his to do.

"Jet," a dark gray female whispered, inching closer to Corson. The tribute stumbled in his retreat, but caught himself before he fell to the ground.

"You can _talk_? How cool is that?" Corson took another step forward, and the pack retreated again. "What about Jet?"

Trunks opened his mouth, then closed it and waited. Corson prompted the large dog a few times, but he remained silent. Lavinia's cannon boomed, startling the tribute but not the dogs.

"That. He killed her. Kill him." Corson stared in horror at the pack, who were inching forward warily. Corson tried to speak, but no words came out.

Trunks lifted his tail, and at the signal the pack ran off. The lavender dog gave one last look to Corson – a knowing, 'holier-than-thou' look – before joining them. Their happy bays could be heard throughout the circle as they raced to join Sayuh in torturing Linea.

Corson sat down, no doubt pondering the things the mutts had said to him. If he was smart, he'd vote for Jet tonight, for that was what Jahall wanted a few tributes to do.

Terkast glanced over at the Mutt Designer, whose computers were now focused in District Eleven. "This'll be good," Terkast said quietly to her. Jahall only offered him a brief smile before returning to her work. She spoke in hushed tones towards the microphones.

Slowly the mutts began to awake. Arrett was climbing a new tree, since his last one had been picked clean. The boy gasped in surprise as the owl stretching its wings and blinked its gold eyes. The tribute lost his grip on the tree and fell.

The owl hooted softly before talking to the boy in quiet tones that mirrored Jahall. It was a primitive voice, but it got the job done. "Jet," it whispered over and over again. Arrett glanced at the tree and began to run through the Orchard haphazardly.

Other owls began to chime in, except their voices were different. Voices Arrett should know and fear. They were the voices of the other tributes, and they were meant to keep the tributes on edge.

Arrett ran throughout the Orchard, and was almost out of the District full of voices when Terkast had an idea: fire.

He moved the dial until it was set on '11' and quickly pressed the buttons before he could change his mind. Jahall cried out in anger, and dug her fingernails into the desk. "_More _fire? You've already killed off my babies in District Five!"

Terkast shrugged, and then watched the flames come to life. Indas, who hadn't done much other than sleep, had been trying to find the source of the tribute's voices. He stopped and delicately smelled the air, skepticism on his face.

The look quickly changed to one of fear, and Indas bolted through the trees. He knew the place well, and was soon away from the apple orchard. There was a fair amount of pear trees between his escape, and Indas knew that.

The flame grew quickly, enjoying its diet of sweet leaves and fruit. Soon, the sparks caught on trees farther away, and they quickly ignited.

"Give me more wind," Terkast ordered, quickly turning back to the screens. Shanna quickly obeyed, and the effects were seen in the arena. Sparks caught on the wind, and were transported farther and farther away.

Jahall's owls took wing, following the two males within their District. Arrett was almost out, but the birds swooped low to startle the District Ten boy. He cursed – words any twelve year old shouldn't know – and batted them away. Still, the raptors came. They wanted a closure before they died in a fiery death.

Indas and Arrett were in a footrace, without either tribute knowing it. Terkast hoped that one would be stuck within the blaze, for it had grown to quite a formidable size. However, he knew better than to have another Gamemaker's death so soon. The Capitol wanted the tributes to spill each other's blood, not Gamemaker intervention all the time.

Arrett made it out first, and he curled up in a ball. The boy was shaking and covered in soot. He kept his hands clamped over his ears to avoid the screaming heard from the owls. If Jahall did it right, there were twenty four owls, each with their own voice. How traumatizing must it be to hear yourself screaming to die?

Indas also stumbled out, but he sat down carefully away from the flames. He watched as they began to build a wall similar to the one in District Five, but did nothing to move. He wasn't as traumatized, but a look of shock was still there.

Terkast hissed his disapproval. No death. However, it _did_ take District Eleven out of the 'useable districts' category, effectively minimizing the size of the arena. The tributes would be forced into closer quarters with each other, and hopefully that would result in more deaths instead of the triad currently in District Twelve.

Dusk settled on the arena. The wall of fire illuminated the Districts though, bringing light where there should be none. Terkast saw that the tributes had readied themselves for the voting, their writing utensils and cards.

Terkast wondered who would be the one to die, although he had a pretty good idea who would be the 'lucky' tribute.

The anthem played, and all tributes eagerly watched the sky. Lavinia's face graced the darkness, but the Head Gamemaker knew that nobody particularly cared about that. She was just one more obstacle in their way of getting home. They were down to fifteen tributes, and each had a one in fifteen chance of surviving. Slim, but still better than the chances of one in twenty four.

The tributes voted, and there was much dissent. The majority was six in favor of one tribute. Then, there were combinations of twos and a four. One tribute had her name voted for once, but she had no chance of dying today.

"You're plan worked, Jahall. Well done," Terkast congratulated the Mutt Designer. Jahall smiled, although this one was much bigger.

Terkast heard the door closing quietly behind him, and watched Sheela Brunton and Zallo Fayce from Eight. He wished them luck in next year's tributes, for he wouldn't be the Gamemaker.

He caught Maylin's eye, and motioned for her to come forward. She looked interested, but Terkast felt the odd sensation of guilt run over him again. He had to stop leaving her alone like this.

"You remember my brothers, right?" he asked. Maylin nodded happily, a wide smile forming on her list. "Good. Go find them and spend some time with them."

Immediately Maylin began to resist. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave Terkast the death glare. The Head Gamemaker laughed and gave her one of his best smiles. "You'd be surprised. The escorts have a lot of fun down there with the tributes. I promise you'll have fun, too."

Maylin didn't seem to enjoy the situation much, no matter how hard he sugarcoated it. "You're going because I feel bad about leaving you here alone with no human interaction. Please go." Still, her face didn't relent. At times, Terkast really admired her durability and anger. She grew up as a servant in the Capitol, and shouldn't really have these qualities.

"I _could_ just get some Peacekeepers to get you out of here _forcibly_," Terkast wheedled, and Maylin finally relented. She let out a huff of breath, and stormed out of the room. He didn't expect to hear from her for a while, and he hoped this was for the best.

She seemed even angrier at him than when he sent her to get some sleep. _That_ he didn't understand. At least this way she could watch the Games.

Terkast turned back to his chair, and was startled by the rest of the Gamemakers watching him in awe. Immediately his mood began to sour. "Well?" he snapped, "What are you waiting for? Send out the mutts!"

Jahall fumbled with the switch, and her cheeks began to turn red. He knew she was embarrassed at being caught, and it filled Terkast with a sense of smugness.

The mutts were let from the ground in District Twelve. Livianna screeched as she saw herself. However, the mutts had no interest in either her or Virgo. They were here to scourge the only male in the Meadow from existence.

Jet watched as Livianna-mutt charged him with interest. Only after he realized that she was followed by the rest of the tributes did he run. He often looked over his shoulder as he ran, watching the horde of mutts crept closer and closer.

Still, Jet was extremely fast. He motored away from the mutts as fast as he could, fueled by adrenaline. The mutts split into two different groups, and Jet ran away from the one on his left. The fire from District Eleven was dying down, but there was still enough light to see the fear on his face.

Too late, Jet realized he was being corralled. Lavinia-mutt waited for him, and Jet tried veering off to the left. However, there was another mutt waiting for him.

"They're learning," Terkast muttered to Jahall, who just nodded. The mutts were making the deaths more extravagant each night, and Terkast knew that _every single Capitolite_ was tuned into this right now.

"Hey, hey," Jet said, his palms out in a soothing gesture. He quickly slicked back his hair and licked his lips. Jahall paused the mutts in their attack, and they all looked at him curiously.

"Listen, I know that some of you died horrible deaths here in this arena. I _know_ that. But, why not kill any other tributes tonight? It's not like I killed any off you!" Jet laughed nervously, but his laugh soon smoothed out. Other than the previous slipup, Jet showed no signs of fear of nerves. He was all courage.

"There goes his silver tongue," Terkast muttered. He leaned forward in his chair, and placed his chin in his hands. This would be fun to watch. He didn't know if the mutts could be won over in persuasion, but he would like to see it.

"Yeah, I _did_ kill Lavinia. Hey!" He pointed to the crowd around him, "it's not like she was doing much. She _deserved_ to die, and we only did her an injustice by letting her live that long."

"Is that so?" Sheave-mutt rumbled, stepping menacingly forward.

Jet skittered backwards, and Terkast was reminded of the dogs earlier in the day. "You can't complain, big boy. You're still alive, along with most of you. Why are there only twenty two of you?"

Jet gasped as his own mutt stepped forward, and took another step backwards. He looked at the other mutts warily before returning to the center of the circle. "Simple, really," Jet-mutt growled, stepping forward once more. He was now toe to toe with his duplicate, and Jet looked ready to faint. "They were killed off. You can't be killed twice, so they don't help us in the fun anymore."

"F-f-f-fun?" Jet whispered, his knees shaking visibly. All shreds of confidence had left the boy, and he was ready to keel over. "What…"

"Don't talk," Jet-mutt whispered, leaning in closer. Jet closed his eyes, bracing himself for an impact. The mutts moved in on the boy, when Jet made his move. He threw his dagger into the crowd as they joined, and one of their bodies fell to the ground with a thick noise.

Jett-mutt snarled and leapt upon his image, leading the rest in the attack. Body parts flew, and blood spattered the ground. Jet kept his silence and took the pain in stride, although it would be the last thing he ever did.

Jet-mutt broke from the bloodlust first, and bent to examine his fallen comrade. Blood coated most of his body surface, although there was a large smear emanating from his mouth. "Shame you couldn't finish him off with us, Livianna," Jet-mutt said, putting his hand on her shoulder. She didn't move, and he left a bloody handprint in his wake. With a swift pull, Jet-mutt pulled the dagger from her forehead and flung it into the surrounding Meadow.

Jahall's mouth was set into a grim line, even though the words that came from her mouth were happy ones. "I've always wanted to see what a tribute would do when faced with his duplicate. I think that went over well."

The hovercraft picked up Jet's pile of gore, and Terkast sighed. The first streaks of light were adorning the skies, and the tributes looked hopeful.

Their time in the arena was dominated by a cycle. Day, anthem, vote, destruction, hovercraft. Over and over and over again. And, as the light started to leech into the arena, Terkast knew it was time to start the cycle again.

**A/N: Done! Please review? Oh, and as I have said before, there is a poll on my profile! Please visit and vote?**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: New chappie, just like I promised! Read, enjoy and review! **

The golden carpets were just as beautiful as before, but yet it did not capture Maylin as they did before. She was carrying a tray of hardboiled eggs to the Escorts room, and Maylin was furious. Just to think, _she_ was carrying food like some common _Avox._

Maylin huffed as she opened the door. There, the Capitol peacocks surrounded her, leaving her plate picked clean within minutes. Worsol and Kornicu were lounging near the large television screen, and Maylin slowly made her way over to them.

Kornicu looked up when she approached, but Maylin just shook her head and showed him the plate of crumbs. The youngest brother's face fell, but Worsol just slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

"Ah, no matter!" he cried. "Come take a seat. Voting's almost on. No deaths today. That's sad." Worsol patted the red seat between him and Kornicu, and let out a hearty bellow as Maylin sat down. "I lied. It's sad for the rest of them," he punctuated by sweeping his hand across the gilt room, "because they bet against me!"

Maylin smiled softly, and then turned to the screen. That's good then, that there were no deaths. She had spent nearly two hours travelling from the Escort room to the kitchens and back up because of the incompetent cooks. Didn't they realize when she pointed to the eggs that she wanted them? Not state stupidly at her pantomime. Or question her thoroughly on where the food was going.

The camera was currently focusing on Indas. He was lumbering around in District Two, completely happy in his solitude. Dusk was settling over the arena, and the moon was steadily rising in the sky.

It was such a lovely purple color, Maylin decided. She would have loved to have that color dress, or maybe as a paint in her room. As if on cue, the tributes stopped whatever activity they were doing.

The camera panned quickly between the tributes, showing their preparations for the upcoming vote. A great clamor erupted from the escorts behind them. Most were waving money, and the shouts made Maylin's ears hurt greatly.

"It's not voting time yet," Kornicu grumbled impatiently, waving a hand to dismiss the escorts. However, the ruckus continued as they watched. It was getting extremely dark now, and the cameras had to switch to night vision.

A screech could be heard from the arena, and the noise suddenly stopped. Someone whispered 'What was that?' as the cameras scurried to find the source of the noise. Livianna, who had recently moved Districts with her weapon, was convulsing on the floor of District Eight.

Maylin looked on in horror as the girl began foaming at the mouth. Escorts were gibbering loudly, the money in their hands temporarily forgotten.

The Avox searched the screen, looking for anything that could have caused this. Did she have a history of it?

Livianna kicked up sand, and soon she was in a hole. Still, her death throws continued.

"There!" Lilita Tinno screeched, pointing out to a small form next to Livianna. Maylin looked closer, appalled what she saw. Next to the hole was Livianna's scythe. It was slick with a dark purple blood, and a thick-furred feline creature was dead next to it.

The creature caused her death? Maylin looked at the District Eleven girl, who was slowly stopping her seizures. Foam sprayed from her mouth, and slowly darkened the orange sand under her.

A cannon boomed in the distance, startling everyone in the room and probably all over Panem. Charmain's quiet voice spoke over the view of Livianna's body, and Maylin jumped again.

"Sadly, Livianna's hunger caused her to choose the wrong prey. That mutt, known as ConiumCat populates District Eight's Desert, according to the Head Gamemaker's notes," Charmain noted. Maylin was still put off by her voice. You couldn't hear the commentators in the Control Room. But the Escorts didn't have the authority to watch all the screens at once. They were forced to watch what everyone watched.

"Vera," Grensboro said in his quiet voice. The young Escort looked to him, and then paled when she saw his outstretched hand. "I bet you five hundred dollars Livianna would be dead before the Final Ten. Pay up."

Vera patted down her slinky black dress, but came up with nothing. She gave an apologetic smile to the older Escort, and he only nodded. "I'll be waiting," he threatened, giving her a smile just in case.

Vera returned his smile, except it was a lot more uneasy. "Hush, hush!" Lilita cried out, and pointed to the screens again. "Charmain just announced that voting's coming up!"

Everyone immediately became quiet, and sat on the large couch alongside Kornicu and Worsol. Maylin laughed as she noted Vera sitting as far away as possible from Grensboro.

The money was now clenched tightly in everyone's fists, and there was not an eye that strayed from the large television. "Now, let's go to Fandral with the voting!"

The scene flipped to a thin man with pristine blonde hair and an impressive moustache. "Hello, everyone!" he exclaimed, using the same deep voice that Maylin heard every day around this time. "Tonight is the fifth night of voting, and we're hoping for another good night, aren't we?"

Manic screams and cheers could be heard off screen, and Fandral's smile only got wider. He reached a hand up to his face and slowly stroked the large blonde moustache. "Let's see some shots of the tributes as they vote!"

The first shot was of Cree, who was drawing some shapes in the sand. The shapes looked very pretty, until one put it together that they spelled out 'Caddis.'

"Caddis Tipper from District Four," Fandral said in a voice over. A small tally box appeared in the top left handed corner of the screen, with Caddis' name having a one next to it. Maylin decided she liked this set up better. She didn't have to struggle to read the names, and she was right on pace with everyone, instead of covering her ears when Terkast announced who was going to die.

Marielle was sitting on the roof of the Estate, looking highly contempt. It seemed that Asher hadn't found her yet, or he had but didn't kill her. Either way, Maylin didn't know or particularly care. She held up a card with 'Cree' on it. "Cree Sooke from District One," Fandral said.

The scene quickly switched to Asher, who was in the bay window he so often frequented. Maylin didn't even bother reading the name, and waited for Fandral's commentary. "Joss Summers from District Four."

Chambers crept closer to Kornicu, and whispered something into his ear. However, Maylin could easily hear it. "Cree is definitely going down tonight. You better have my money ready. Your brother can't save you."

Kornicu laughed, and then mouthed 'We'll see.' Chambers looked put off, but soon his eyes returned to the screen.

Caddis was still sitting in District Four, and the white sand clung to her skin. "Cree Sooke from District One," Fandral said, and another tally went next to Cree's name. Joss was sitting sadly in District Ten, and had a small card with 'Caddis' written on it.

Kornicu shifted towards Chambers and whispered, "They're tied now," before moving back to his original position. If Maylin hadn't been so observative, she would have missed the entire encounter.

Corson and Linea sat together, huddled close to each other for warmth. Their breath came out in puffs, and they had the same name written out on their cards. "That's two votes for Cree," Fandral announced.

Wolf looked even more starved than he had the previous night. Maylin strained her eyes and saw, with some difficulty, the Chameleon. He kept an ever watchful eye over Wolf, looking for any scrap of food that could be mooched. "Caddis Tipper from District Four."

Maylin relaxed slightly, but the Escorts became even tenser. They were about halfway done with voting, and Cree was currently winning the match. Maylin wondered vaguely how many Escorts had bet on the death of this girl.

The cameras panned to Tristan, who was still meandering about in the Valley. He held up a card, and Fandral read out the name. "Caddis Tipper."

Maylin looked up into the box at the left hand corner, and quickly tallied the amounts. Cree and Caddis were tied at four votes each, and Joss had one. It was so much easier than tallying the results in her own mind!

Arrett had found himself over in District Two, and had quickly scrambled to get the bird's eye view from the Mountain. He held up 'Indas,' and Fandral read out the name. Indas' name was added to the list in the small box. Maylin figured Arrett saw the hulking brute of a tribute perched in District Eleven's trees, and figured his chance of surviving was better without him.

Indas, however, was trudging along in District Eleven's ruins. It didn't hold much cover for him, but the nostalgia was too much. He was in one of the places he thought he would never get to see again. Maybe he wanted to die in it, even though it was ruined? "Caddis Tipper."

Caddis had now outstripped Cree, but there were still two votes to count. Maylin wondered which Career would die tonight. She didn't mind, but she hoped whomever it was put up a good fight. They were down three mutts, but still had twenty one to put on a good show.

Virgo was now alone in District Twelve, although she didn't seem to notice it. She walked along cautiously, like Livianna was still present with her deadly scythe. She held up 'Sheave' on her card. As Fandral read out the name, Maylin felt a slight twinge of surprise.

Why would she vote for her District partner? You were supposed to hope they'd win if you didn't, so that your District would still get the food. Maylin thought that she wouldn't be well received if she lived and went back to District Twelve.

The last tribute and the Escorts were ready to snap with the tension. Nobody knew what would happen if it was a tie, and many of them were excited to find out. Sheave looked dead on to his cameras, and offered a small smile. On his card he had written out Joss. Many Escorts visibly slumped with the news, but Kornicu jumped up happily.

"Pay up, Chambers! That's your red convertible _and_ one thousand dollars on top of that!" He began to do a little dance in front of the television, chanting "Caddis is going to die," over and over in a singsong voice.

Chambers grumbled underneath his breath, but many others were laughing at his embarrassment. Chastity slumped down in her chair, looking utterly defeated.

"I really thought I'd get a winner this year," she muttered. Regien patted her shoulder comfortingly, but Maylin knew he was bursting in happiness inside. He was District Twelve, and rarely did both of his tributes make it passed the bloodbath, let alone make it this far.

"My car?" Chambers spouted, jumped to his feet. Kornicu stopped his celebratory dance and looked the District Two Escort dead in the eye.

"Yes. That fast, beautiful, red, topless speed demon," the brother listed, a smile creeping on his face. Worsol laughed behind them, making Chamber's angrier. "If you didn't want to give it up, you shouldn't've –"

"I _shouldn't've _lost it! The odds were all against Cree! What did Caddis do? Absolutely nothing," Chambers fumed. Maylin found the argument much more exciting than the waiting that was going on on screen. "I know what happened!" he shouted triumphantly, making Kornicu stumble a little.

He looked at the other Escort with confusion, and everyone had quieted down to listen to the dispute. "What?" Kornicu asked, his arms falling limply to his side.

"We all know you have certain, ah, _connections_ within the Games. You wanted my car, so you told _Terkast_ to rig the voting!"

It was dead silent in the room. Even the Games had fallen to an uncomfortable lull. "What?" Worsol asked, standing up from the couch. The older escort shrunk away slightly, but the fire was still in his eyes. "He's _Gamemaker_, not someone who can control minds. The tributes voted on their own account."

Chambers snorted. Maylin glanced quickly at the screen, and the cameras were focusing on Caddis. Poor girl didn't know the mutts would come out soon and kill her. The suspense must be killing her already!

"That's what they _say_. I think _Terkast_," he spit out the Gamemaker's name like it was a foul bad curse word. Maylin felt anger slowly boiling in her, but she held it down. It's not like she could shout comprehensible things, and she'd probably get killed for defying an Escort. It was big enough for her to be served by other Avoxes; she'd better not push it. "Worked something in for you."

Kornicu stuttered for a few seconds before adopting an angry look on his own face. "Bullshit! I haven't talked to him since the Chariot Rides!"

Chambers snorted again, and Maylin felt a taste of hate for the man. He went to open his mouth, but Chiara shushed him. "The mutts have just been released. I suggest we stop fighting if we want to see the death," she cut in sarcastically.

Immediately both Escorts quieted down, but the anger was still prominent on their features. "I expect _my_ car tomorrow," Kornicu hissed in an undertone, but turned away before Chambers could retort.

The tributes filed out of the sand, looking like monsters as they shook the small granules off. Caddis immediately sat up and watched them approach her. "What the hell?" she whispered. The moon sent glints off of their hair, and the girl's eyes widened when she realized what the mutts meant.

"I lost?" she shouted, jumping to her feet and trying to run through the sand. The small pebbles sprayed up from her feet and hit the mutts face, but they paid no heed to it.

Asher-mutt was clearly the leader of tonight, and he barked out orders to the others. Like well trained dogs, the others complied. They cut Caddis off from escaping to another District, but still left a gap in their ranks.

Caddis darted through the small space gratefully, unaware of where the mutts were herding her. They really were getting smarter, Maylin realized. Caddis pushed on, running full out through the white sand.

She stumbled a few times, but quickly caught her footing again. Caddis was used to living in District Four, and sand running must've been second nature to her. The mutts stayed at a close but safe distance behind her.

The sound of waves got louder and louder, and it was only a few feet from the lapping waves that Caddis realized what they were doing. She stopped dead and looked behind her. The mutts were now closing in, and forced her into the salty pseudo-ocean.

With a short bark like laugh, Caddis jumped into the cold water and began a strong stroke. Asher-mutt laughed happily and dove right in after her. The rest of the mutts followed suit.

What surprised Maylin was that the mutts didn't swim like Caddis: they went under the water. She was creeped out by the lack of bubbles rising to the surface, and her mind began to go on the fritz. If she was Caddis, she would have died of a heart attack. The fact that you didn't know where the mutts were scared her the most.

A splash detoured Caddis, and she began to swim parallel to the short. A smile was on her face, and she looked filled with euphoria. Surely the mutts couldn't have followed her out here. She was one of the best swimmers in her age group.

As to prove her wrong, a hand shot up from the deep. It grabbed Caddis' foot, and began to pull her down. Caddis gave a muffled yell, seawater flooding into her mouth.

With a furious kick, Caddis pulled free of the grasping hand. She coughed up the water, but the encounter really took its toll on her. She continued forward, but it was at a much slower pace.

The second time a hand shot up, Caddis was prepared. She blocked it deftly, but Maylin could see that she was quickly losing energy. Another hand grasped her arm, and pulled the District Four girl down.

Caddis screamed as she went down, but bobbed back up a few seconds later. Maylin wondered what was going on, until she realized the water was now slowly being dyed red. Caddis was missing a large chunk of her right arm.

Self-preservation kicked in, and the girl powered towards the shore. Maybe, if she could hit the shore, she could escape. However, more hands came up and grabbed her. Caddis disappeared again, but this time she didn't reappear.

The water began to churn where she went down, and Maylin's stomach flopped in disgust. Blood now freely mixed with water, and certain body parts floated to the surface. Not only were the mutts like wolves on the hunt, they were sent into a frenzy at the blood like sharks. And they could swim like them, too.

Worsol whistled, clearly impressed. "Jahall really outdid herself this year." A few others agreed with him. Maylin turned away from the television as the cannon boomed, and she saw money passing hands.

She was still extremely angry at Terkast, but the Escorts weren't _that_ bad. Maylin took a small pink fruity drink from the tray presented in front of her. Other escorts looked at her, but Kornicu and Worsol accepted her.

Maylin took small, slow sips. Caddis' death was worse than all of the mutt deaths beforehand, and Maylin shuddered. She couldn't imagine any other death worse than that. And if the mutts were learning… She pitied the poor tributes that would be voted off in the next few days.

**A/N: Enjoy? Good. Review? And poll! I only got two people to vote! Come on people, I know you read!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Hello, my readers! I apologize for not updating **_**anything**_** lately, but I recently switched semesters and my new classes are killing me. Plus, I do have a social life. Thank to all who have read, and a special thanks to Europa, whose reviews always make me smile. Now, onward and enjoy the chapter!**

Marielle sat in District Three, watching Asher as he putted around the Estate. The image was grainy and blurry, and Terkast made note to tell the engineers about it. The other screens on Marielle were just fine, but this one irked him. And if _one _thing went wrong, what's to stop _other_ things from going wrong?

Terkast motioned for an Avox, and scowled when none approached immediately. He swiveled around his chair and appraised the room coldly. Maylin's customary chair was empty, and the room was still and calm.

He made a guttural noise deep in his throat. He was the _Gamemaker_ for Panem's sake! He should have Avoxes by the hovercraft-load waiting on him. With a snap of his fingers, the young boy Avox appeared.

"Go the engineers. I want word with them," he snapped. The boy looked stunned for a second before scurrying off. He swung back to the controls and banged on the desk twice. The other Gamemakers jumped a little in their seat, but none gave him any recognition.

They were used to his random mood swings, and having his personal Avox gone seemed to make it worse. It seemed he had taken a protective stance over the girl, and became extremely nervous when she wasn't around.

He glanced at the screens again. It was common knowledge that nothing had really happened in these Games, except at night. Sure, there had been a few nice kills; especially in the first day of the Games. However, the tributes had gotten comfortable in the assumption a tribute would die every night. He would change that as soon as possible.

Cree was stalking around the arena. Her hands gripped her tomahawk tightly, and occasionally she would switch hands. Terkast would give a large amount of money to know what was going through her head at this moment. He appraised the cup stuffed with money before him before shaking his head. No, his bonus was worth much more than a trivial tribute's thoughts.

He reached for his drink and held it lightly in his hand as he watched the other tributes. Arrett was climbing higher up the Mountain for a better view. He was itching to use to bow and arrow strapped to his back, and everybody knows projectiles work from a higher vantage point.

Wolf was staring out along the mesa, watching the sun blaze in the sky. His eyes were watering, and his cheek bones looked prominent in his face. His eyes darted from side to side, and his hands shuffled nervously in his lap.

Wouldn't the boy realize that the Chameleon in his District was killing him? Or would he die from starvation because he refused to leave his home District? Terkast hoped the latter wouldn't happen.

Otherwise, it was the same normal routine for the tributes. Sleep, eat, and watch. It was getting boring. A few minutes ago he had to act very polite and _humble_ as the President chastised him. 'It was getting boring,' he claimed. 'Not enough tributes are killing each other.' 'The voting is fun, that death is great, but the rest of the Games are complete bullcrap.'

Terkast winced to himself. The Games, well, they could use some spiffing up. In his years as a Gamemaker there had been bloodbaths that lasted a mere two days, and others (when he wasn't head Gamemaker) that were drawn out for a month or so.

With a sigh, he placed his hands in his head. He could do this and not worry about a tribute dying. They were spread out, and wouldn't meet anyone else – unless Cree came into the picture soon.

He realized in the past few days why the last Head Gamemaker – Mercury – had left for a psychiatric hospital. The Games were hard to organize, and then there was the entire Capitol to please. It was nearly impossible to leave this place sane. So much stress was piled up on them, and they could do nothing about it. Many of them went completely bonkers. It was an enjoyable feeling when they killed the tributes that way.

He snarled and flicked the panel for the fire. "Whatever number it lands on, I'm going to burn," he announced out loud. For the first time in a few hours, the Gamemakers looked at him. Most looked amused, but Jahall looked completely aghast.

The dial stopped ticking as it chose a number, and Terkast looked up slowly. He wanted to savor the moment that the fire would destroy a District, and possibly force a tribute battle.

District Nine. Terkast scanned the screens and frowned. The only tribute in District Nine was Tristan. He punched the button furiously, and giggled to himself when the first few sparks appeared. They caught on the new, green grass and quickly built into a raging, manmade inferno.

For good measure, he turned the dial to District Five. This would chase Wolf out of the Mesa. It was no fun watching a tribute starve to death. Either this way he was gone from District Five, or he died in the conflagration. No matter.

He pressed the button again, and he heard confused noises as the other Gamemakers realized what he was doing. Jahall nearly screeched. Apart from her own dogs, the Chameleon was her favorite – her baby.

Tristan stared as the fire slowly climbed up the Valley to where he was nesting. With a strangled cry, he leapt up from the grass. He quickly snatched up everything around him and booked for the nearest escape.

Halfway through, the District Nine male stopped. He swept his head around a few times, and then dropped everything in his arms. He sprinted back to the fire, his lungs drawing in breath in what seemed like a painful way.

Terkast cocked his eyebrow, but was interested as to where this would go. Why was he running back towards certain death? Tristan scooped up something crooked near the base of the growing flames, and the Gamemaker suddenly understood. A weapon, in the Hunger Games, was much more important than fire.

He swiveled his head to see how Wolf was doing. The boy was staring wide-eyed as the blaze grew, and Terkast immediately knew he was going to die. He was frozen to the spot and didn't seem too interested in moving.

The Chameleon was also wide-eyed behind Wolf. For a second, he looked just like a normal child, albeit an invisible one. His eyes were just as wide as Wolf's and his hands twitched uncontrollably against his side.

The mutt closed its eyes and pushed Wolf. The boy turned around surprised, but the intervention was all he needed to get moving. He grabbed his now empty backpack and began to shimmy down the Mesa's sides.

It was slow going, but the boy just _might_ make it out if he hurried. The fire was consuming everything, and would surely consume the sides, too. With a few feet left, Wolf jumped. He landed on the soft grass of District Ten and watched as his home District was burnt to the ground.

Immediately an Avox appeared at his side. Terkast laughed quietly and accepted the parcel. He dismissed the teenager with a wave of his hand. Inside of it was a note written in thick, strong handwriting. He deduced it was from Javi quickly, because of the notes he received the past few years.

'Since the Chameleon is finally dead,' the note read, 'give Wolf a good meal. I think the money behind it is sufficient.' Terkast pulled away the large sheet of paper and at first frowned at the two slips of money. That wasn't enough to buy a good piece of bread during this critical point in the Games.

As he reached into the letter to grab them, he noticed the numbers in the high corner. "Two thousand dollars?" he whispered to himself, grabbing the money. All on such a tiny boy? He had no idea the boy made much of an impression on the sponsors.

"To Wolf," he announced to the others, "a feast! Hulton, _two thousand dollars _worth of food to our lovely District Six male!" The Gamemaker grunted in interest before tapping quickly on the panel before him.

Food items popped up, and Hulton regarded them with mild interest. One of the pictures showed bacon, and Terkast dearly hoped Wolf was given that. Bacon made everything better.

Within a few minutes, the basket was sent spiraling down to Wolf. The boy looked up from watching his District burn and gave a happy smile. It was his first sponsor gift, and it was quite a good one.

He tore open the basket and dug through the food like he was a starving man - he had been for the past few days. Grubby hands shoved food inside his mouth, and whole pieces kept falling out. Terkast smiled when he saw that bacon had been added to the list.

His eyes were glued to Wolf's screen. Terkast was utterly fascinated as the young boy stuffed his face. How much could he eat before he burst? His stomach couldn't take it all.

As if Terkast's suspicions were confirmed, Wolf stopped eating abruptly. He held his hands to his throat, and a whistling breath could be heard through it.

The Head Gamemaker groaned as he slumped down in his seat. The boy survived the Chameleon and fire to die by _choking_? This was quite pathetic. Wolf spluttered a few times, trying to cough the object out. He lost the ability to breathe, and was quickly turning blue.

"What should we do?" Cera asked with an edge of fear in her voice. Terkast waved his hand at her and continued to stare into the screen.

He could send in mutts to help him. But then that would be seen as favoring a certain tribute. Clearly against the rules. He could hope that the boy dislodges the material himself. But what if he died? That was another non-bloody death Terkast would certainly pay for.

His fingers loomed over the mutt button when Wolf got up and rammed himself weakly against the smoking Mesa wall. He did it again and again, and with a sickening 'thwap' the hunk of chewed up bacon hit the wall.

Wolf sat down feebly on the grass, his breath coming in great wheezes. The District Six boy held his head in his hands, as if he was going to pass out. Good. The boy didn't die, and Terkast wouldn't be punished.

The Head Gamemaker glanced around the other screens. Nothing much had happened. It wasn't like he suspected anything else. Tristan successfully escaped with his boomerang, and was now prowling across District Seven. Hopefully Jahall would turn on her tree mutts soon, to make it more interesting.

The smoke from the fires still billowed from their respective Districts, painting the sky a dark purplish hue. However, it didn't cover up much. The sky was still darkening towards night, and it was a day that nobody died. Once, in a time far away, it was acceptable for no deaths to happen in a day. However, with the 725th Games, you _needed_ to keep it entertaining.

He could almost hear the Victors on the other side sighing in relief. It meant that their tribute was still alive, and the Careers were next to getting voted off. They were safe; at least for another day.

Their safety was short lived, however. A screech, a quite common occurrence in the arena, lifted his spirits.

Marielle was on the floor of the Estate, vibrating violently as electrical current was poured into her body. Asher calmly walked down the stairs to appraise her body.

"You should have been more careful," he nearly whispered, watching as foam appeared at the corners of her mouth. "I knew you were in the house pretty much from the day you stepped foot inside. I had all the windows wired, you know. I thought you'd leave, but you didn't. I need to get home, though. You're a nice girl, and I'm sorry." Her cannon boomed off in the distance, and Asher looked thoughtfully in its direction.

Marielle's body was still violently jerking around, but the light had left her eyes. The boy stepped around her body, careful not to touch it. He approached a slim metal box above the sink and quickly turned off the power to the kitchen.

Asher glanced at her corpse for a second before going to the bay window to vote. Terkast smiled, because it was one more person down until the end. Plus, this death would count as a tribute versus tribute and he wouldn't get reprimanded.

Only Marielle's face was projected against the oily black smoke in the night. She had almost survived, but it was her own stupidity and carelessness that was her downfall.

Terkast glanced across the screens, eager to find out who would die in tonight's voting. He had no control over it, and it was the most thrilling part of the Games.

Cree had settled down in District Seven, a stone's throw from Tristan's new hiding spot. She held up 'Joss.' Terkast agreed with her, silently. He would certainly die tonight. Either him or her, since they were the last Careers left.

Asher, however, held up 'Sheave.' Terkast narrowed his eyes. Sheave and Indas were certainly added to this list, because they were also strong. Oftentimes, the District Three and Five people had a good grasp on who would die.

Joss was sitting on the floor of District Ten, playing with the edges of his paper. It read 'Cree.' He smiled weakly at what direction he thought the camera was in and flexed his muscles. Surely he was showing that he was still strong, even after Lavinia left him and died.

Both Corson and Linea in District One held up Sheave's name. Terkast cocked his eyebrow. Would they leave the Careers for a stronger other District boy? He shrugged. It was plausible, but he still thought that the remaining Careers posed a larger threat.

Wolf, who was still soot-stained from before, held up 'Cree' as he slowly moved through District Ten. Sleipnir was currently sleeping and the horse herd was grazing. They didn't seem to notice him, though. However, Wolf still moved cautiously because he had probably never encountered these animals before.

Tristan glowered in District Twelve, and his frown only deepened when a slight rumble went through the earth. They had been getting stronger since the day begun, and would soon escalate to full out earthquakes. He held up 'Cree' and sat down as the ground beneath him shifted.

Terkast turned his attention to the rest of the tributes in line. Cree and Sheave were tied, and there weren't many tributes that were left to vote.

Arrett held up Cree's name, and Terkast turned quickly away from the boy. He wanted to see who would die. Cree was winning, as she should be. Careers wouldn't win this year's Games, he was certain of it.

Indas wrote down 'Sheave.' Terkast's eyes widened, and his pulse raced. Who would die? This would certainly be a turning point in the Games. He hoped the President liked it. Virgo had written down 'Sheave' also. If Sheave had written down Cree, he would possibly get to kill both of them. How exciting would that be! It would also throw off the betting systems, and select few would win millions.

He glanced slowly at Sheave, who was still idling his time away in the Desert. Intricate designs surrounded the brutish boy, all drawn in the sand. On a scraggly piece of paper he had written a name. Terkast deciphered his tight chicken scratch and groaned when he realized the answer.

The District Twelve boy had written out 'Joss,' and with that he sealed his own fate. "Kill him," Terkast demanded lazily. "I would have _loved_ to kill both of them," he said in a lilting voice, "but Sheave killed himself. Make it interesting, though. The President will have all of our heads if it's not interesting." The ending of the demands was near a growl, and Terkast placed his head in his hands.

Weariness was starting to tug at the corner of his eyes, and Terkast felt around for his mug. His grasping fingers felt nothing but air and buttons, and he frowned. He slowly lifted his eyes up, and glanced over at the screens.

The tribute-mutts were arising from the sand. They shook off the granules as they arose, making small noises to alert Sheave to their presence. The boy turned around and glared at the approaching figures.

"So you're what's been killin' everything off," he nearly snarled, his lip rising in disgust.

Caddis-mutt smiled slightly, her wide eyes blinking slowly. "Well," she drawled, trying to copy his accent, "aren't you a _smart_ one?"

Sheave growled deeply, and felt around for his weapon. He had found a small dagger strapped to a tree and had quickly taken it a few days ago. It wasn't what he specified in, but he was willing to use anything. However, the mutts didn't know he had a weapon.

"I suggest you stay away," he muttered, inching away from Caddis-mutt. She stepped forward lightly, taunting him. The other mutts circled around him, eager for more prey.

"Or you'll _what_?" Gyton-mutt cackled, stepping in closer on Sheave's left side. He inhaled deeply, smelling the fear emanating from the brutish form. His eyes rolled in his head and showed the whites in his pleasure.

With a war-cry, Sheave leapt forward, startling the mutts. He imbedded the knife deep within Caddis-mutt's forehead when the rest of the pack was on him. They showed the District Twelve boy no mercy, and fights broke out in the circle.

Cree-mutt bared her teeth at Joss-mutt as the latter tried to move in upon her part of the body. A squabble began, and little Arrett-mutt took advantage and destroyed Sheave's arm. However, the stoic boy remained silent, even in his death throes.

The mutts seemed a bit perturbed as their prey didn't cry out for mercy, but the job was still done. There wasn't any recognizable body parts in the scattering of gore, and many of them were coated in blood from head to foot. Joss-mutt was cradling his left arm while Cree-mutt smiled triumphantly. In their little pack, she was now more dominant than he.

Jahall called them back, and they stalked into the hole that opened in the Desert for them. A hovercraft appeared and scooped up the smear of carnage. Terkast noticed with interest that a whole bunch of sand was also scooped up.

The buriers would have a hard time picking out every individual grain of sand. If it wasn't perfect and the mourning family was dissatisfied, the burier would lose his life as a sacrifice. Terkast gulped. That was one job he _definitely_ didn't want.

He sighed, and sat back in his chair. Calm, peaceful thoughts floated through his mind – mostly thoughts about what he would do when the Games were over. A prickly idea wormed itself into his mind and Terkast scowled, his good mood immediately forgotten.

Where was the engineer on his fuzzy screen? He couldn't decide who would pay the price. The Avox boy, who had taken forever to get to him in the first place and was probably dillydallying now, or the engineer, whose fault this was and might be stalling the Avox boy.

He needed another Avox, too. His Games' mug was nowhere to be found, and he needed his specialized energy-boosting drug to help him through his tiredness.

"You!" Came through one of the screens, and Terkast immediately looked up. Indas pointed at Asher, who had escaped the house for a few seconds for some fresh air. Asher's head whipped around on its hinges, looking for escape.

He couldn't go into the house, for there he was just a sitting duck. His only chance of getting away was to run as fast as he could and hope his top speed was bigger than Indas'.

The District Eleven boy took off after the mousey District Three boy. Terkast laughed lightly to himself. A hearty dash of adrenaline was just as good as his energy-booster. At least for now, anyway.

**A/N: Good? Bad? Not what you expected? Please review… it's the energy I thrive on! Please? And poll! Thank you and I shall (hopefully) see you soon! **


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Read, enjoy and review, my faithful minions!**

Terkast placed his head in his hands as he watched the chase. Asher was ahead by quite a few paces and kept the distance between them easily. The Head Gamemaker expected either Asher to sprint away from Indas, or Indas to easily capture Asher, but none had happened yet.

He figured that both weren't used to running. Asher lived in District Three, where most children lived inside and worked inside for most of their lives. They never got any real exercise and were often left in the dust when it came to the Hunger Games. Indas was used to more physical labor, but he was a lot heavier than Asher. This slowed him down greatly, as the emaciated boy was a lot more deft.

They tore through the rest of the District Three wedge, barely noticing a stream as they splashed from side to side. By this time, Indas was beginning to pant. Terkast frowned. Indas was heavier and used to physical labor, but stamina was not one of his strong points. And if this confrontation didn't end in a death, he'd be punished for it.

However, Asher was slowing down too. His short stature proved to be one of his restrictions. Whilst running through the stream, the majority of his clothes became wet. The water was weighing him down, and Terkast remembered Asher wasn't good with stamina either.

So, would they just continue to be at an equal distance from each other? That wouldn't be very exciting. As they breached District Eight, Indas gained another burst of speed. He closed the distance between them, and Terkast sat up in his chair.

Indas would have to make a move now if he wanted to kill the District Three boy. Otherwise, Asher would slip through his fingers, and possibly catch Indas in a trap later on. He had a fifty-fifty chance of getting the boy, and the Head Gamemaker hoped he would take the right one.

The sand in the Desert slowed them both down. It was quite comical to see the fine orange granules sticking to their bare legs and clothes as it sucked up the moisture. Asher looked behind him and yelped.

Sadly, that was a near fatal move. The slight distraction allowed the District Eleven boy time to catch up, and now he could touch Asher if he really strained.

Terkast didn't need to look around to know that everyone's eyes were on the screens in front of them. The cameras being broadcasted to all of Panem must also have this image painted across the screens, although probably in varying shots.

The rising sun broke through the natural cold of the Desert, and shone meekly on their faces. Both of them showed a great deal of strain and Indas' face was slick with sweat. "Come on, come on," Terkast goaded, though well aware Indas couldn't hear him. He needed, physically _needed_, this death.

As if on cue, Indas leapt at Asher and pinned the boy. Asher whimpered under Indas' weight as they rolled over and over through the sand. The boy's head smacked against the soft sand, and Indas smiled like a cat.

"You can't escape, Wire-Boy," Indas snarled. Asher groaned slightly as Indas shifted his weight. Terkast could see the frail bones underneath Asher's skin, and a lot of pressure was being put on them.

Indas rummaged around in his pocket and produced a small length of rope. "When did he get that?" Terkast asked, utterly perplexed.

"It was in his pack, remember? They got rope at the beginning," Baheera returned, not glancing away from the screen.

Terkast grunted his in recognition. He had forgotten that the tributes received a pack at the beginning of the Games to make up for the lack of a Cornucopia.

Indas took the rope and wound it around his wrists. "Now," he said calmly, "what do you think I'm going to do with _this,_ Wire-Boy?" Asher began to plead with the larger boy, but no words were easily discernable. "See, I can't have a death legitimately on my hands so this'll do."

The Head Gamemaker was confused. Indas didn't want a death on his hands? Either way, the death would count as his. What difference did it make whether or not he killed Asher with rope or his bare hands?

Terkast looked down the line of his trusted Gamemakers and saw most of them had the same expression on. "Maybe his hands aren't strong enough?" Shanna offered, shrugging her shoulders.

Cera snorted. "It's obvious what he's doing. He wants to show the sponsors he has a brain behind his brawn. That he can tie knots to kill a tribute instead of mercilessly strangling them."

This explanation made sense. Terkast turned back to the screen with a new understanding. While they were talking, Indas had made a simple noose and was unnecessarily holding it up for all to see.

"Come with me, Wire-Boy," he grunted, and slipped the noose over Asher's neck. "You're going to follow me to District Seven, where I'll kill you. If you try to run, I'll pull the rope taut and kill you using my fists. Either way you lose. Understand?"

Asher nodded meekly. The hopeful light had left his eyes, and now they were deep, bottomless pits into his dead soul. With a smile, Indas got off Asher. The boy didn't fight as Indas tugged at his new leash. He shuffled listlessly as Indas led him along.

"It won't take long," Indas chattered. "Just across the circle. You'll die next to the District you love _so_ much." Indas snickered and pulled furiously at the leash. Asher stumbled, but didn't say anything.

They soon left the sandy place and began trekking through the dark forest District. "We're leaving now, Terkast," a tired voice said behind him.

Milwake and Burr were standing directly behind him. Tears streamed down Milwake's face, and Burr had his arm draped protectively over her shoulders. "But… Asher isn't…"

"I know," Burr snapped. "There isn't any hope for him, though. And I'm taking Milwake home now. She can't stand watching her own tributes die. She hasn't hardened like… the rest of us… yet."

Terkast nodded sagely, and got up from his chair. He glanced at the screens to make sure nothing else was happening yet. "I'm sorry Milwake," he soothed. He went to place his hand on her shoulder, but she winced. With a hiccup she broke from Burr's grip and left the room sobbing.

"It's not really your fault. I think she's just imagining the horrible death Indas'll give Asher. She was kinda attached to him." Burr nodded and shook Terkast's hand. "See you next year."

The Head Gamemaker watched as the older mentor left the Control Room and sat down with a sigh. "But it _is_ my fault," he mumbled. He looked up quickly, making sure that nobody was watching him. He looked at the screens, and saw that Indas was shimmied up a tree.

"What?" he questioned and he turned to the other Gamemakers. They remained silent for a few seconds before Baheera answered.

"He's going to hang him," the Gamemaker explained tartly. Terkast watched in a mixture of interest and horror as Indas tied a knot over the tree trunk. Asher had to stand on his tip toes to keep from choking.

Indas grunted at his workmanship on the screen. "Come here." He motioned for Asher, who came meekly. He unwrapped the rope from Asher's neck with one hand while grasping a bunch of hair in his other. Still, the District Three boy didn't move.

The brute lifted Asher's tiny body off the ground a little bit and retied the knot. "Goodbye, Wire-Boy," Indas whispered. He dropped Asher, and the boy fell a few inches. However, his feet were stuck dangling an inch of the ground.

"Good job, Indas!" the District Eleven boy congratulated himself as Asher simply swung. Asher didn't fight at all, and seemed rather relieved to be ending his life.

Terkast snarled deep within himself. That was a cruel death Indas pushed upon Asher. Although it was interesting, the boy didn't deserve that. "Set the trees on him," Terkast growled, and Jahall complied.

The branches began to move in a wild motion, catching Indas' eye. He screeched as the trees began to reach out for him, and Terkast turned away in disgust. Let the tress kill him. He deserved it.

Completely ignoring the few screens Indas was on, Terkast scammed the rest. Cree was sleeping quietly in District Ten. It annoyed him that Joss and she were so close to each other, yet they didn't fight. Of course, they didn't see each other. Joss was worried about not being seen by Sleipnir and Cree was sleeping. Still, it irked him.

Linea was building somewhat of a fort with the practice dummies. Trunks was sitting lazily with his pack as he watched her. Occasionally, he whispered things to set her on edge. However, it seemed Linea learned to ignore the dogs.

"Asher's off swinging, and swinging, and swinging," Trunks sang. To his delight, Linea looked up.

"What?" she asked, some foam clenched in her hand. To respond, Trunks just repeated his first phrase. Linea stared dumbfounded at the leader, unaware of what he was saying. "I don't understand," she said, confusing hinting in her voice.

"Wait for it," Trunks replied. He cocked his head, seemingly listening to the very motion of the earth. A cannon boomed, and the entire pack began howling.

Linea covered her ears and tears started down her face. "Stop. Please?" she croaked. When they didn't respond, Linea began rebuilding her fort.

Corson was napping in the shade of a rock climbing wall. He jerked slightly when the cannon boomed, but didn't wake up. "Boring," Terkast stated, and quickly switched his gaze to another screen.

Virgo was laughing as she picked flowers in the Meadow. Occasionally, a strong rumble would drop her to the ground, but she'd get right up and continue her skipping. "Hrmph," Terkast grumbled. "Flowers? Might have to fix that," he mused. First he'd have to look at the rest of the tributes, though.

Tristan was walking through District Seven, his boomerang clenched tightly in a fist. He padded along the trees, wary of their moving branches. However, they didn't attack. Jahall knew the attack was just meant for Indas.

He heard Asher's body swinging, and ducked behind a tree. Carefully he poked his head out from the trunk and his face blanched when he saw the sight. Tristan quickly put his hand up to cover his mouth, but a trickle of vomit squirted out. He turned around and was sick all over the mossy Forest ground.

Although he was disgusted, Terkast could understand exactly why Tristan did that. He, Terkast, would do the same if he found another tribute hung like that. It was inhumane.

The last tribute, Arrett, was still on the Mountain. He was slowly chewing on one of his last pieces, if not his last piece, of beef jerky and scanning the area. Up on the Mountain he had a good view of the surrounding arena.

His eyes were locked on the tiny moving form of Virgo in District Twelve. However, he knew it was too far and was content with just watching.

"Jahall, can I burn District Twelve to the ground?" Terkast asked. He really didn't need her permission – he was the Head Gamemaker for Panem's sake! – but he wanted to make sure she wouldn't flip out about the mutts.

"Again? I swear you're a pyromaniac," she muttered. "Fine. Those mutts are underground, anyway. They'll have to come up soon to feed, though."

Terkast smiled a large smile, and turned the dial to 12. He watched Virgo for a few more seconds. She picked up a light blue flower and giggled as a butterfly landed on it. It made him sick.

Another rumble ripped through District Twelve, and a few deep incisions appeared in the ground. It made him smile. Maybe some tribute later would fall prey to these mutts.

"Indas is out," Cera announced, and Terkast's smile faded. He pushed the fire button with gusto and watched the flame start.

Virgo didn't notice the growing flames at first, and continued to pick flowers. She had a large bouquet a few feet off. She lifted and orange-striped flower to her nose and wrinkled her nose when she smelled the acrid smoke.

She started when she saw the large blaze and she whipped her head back and forth. Terkast imagined the thoughts were flying around in her head and willed her to get moving.

A few more cracks appeared in the ground as the most recent earthquake shook District Twelve. This seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Virgo sprinted forward, using her speed to take her away from the fire.

For a few seconds, Virgo looked like she was going to escape. Her face was happy, for she knew that she wasn't going to die tonight. However, one of her major faults struck her down in all of her glory. Virgo wasn't paying attention to the ground she ran on, and had stepped directly in one of the deep cracks the earthquakes recently made.

With a sickening crack Virgo's ankle broke and she fell to the ground sobbing. She reached out in front of her and tried to pull herself forward, but the fire was upon her in a few seconds.

A bloodcurdling scream escaped her lips as the first few tongues of flame caressed her body. "Taurus! Taurus!" she screeched as the fire devoured her body. Terkast felt sorry for the girl, but he really didn't care otherwise.

Her cannon went off a few minutes later, and Terkast let the fire burn itself out in District Twelve. How many Districts had he burnt to the ground? Five were gone. Seven remained.

Terkast thought of something and frowned. He hoped that the Districts didn't think that he actually _meant_ something by burning down their home. It's not like it was symbolic for him wanting to destroy their District. It just made the Game much more fun.

"Terkast, sir?" A quiet voice asked behind the Gamemaker and he turned around expectantly. The engineer stood meekly behind him, a toolbox clenched in his hand. "Sorry I'm late. The Mutt Designers had a little trouble with controlling the human-mutts, so I had to work on their remotes. What do you need?"

In response, Terkast just pointed out the fuzzy screen. It was now focused on Indas as he collapsed in District Eight.

The engineer visibly relaxed. "I just have to tinker underneath the desk for a little bit," he said. "Do you mind?"

Terkast shook his head and pushed his chair back. He watched as the engineer got on his knees and ducked underneath the silvery control panel. Bored already, Terkast decided to take a walk. "Make sure _nothing_ happens," he threatened before walking out.

The hallway was a soothing blue, and the carpet a darker shade of the same color. It really calmed his nerves, and Terkast questioned why he hadn't done this before. He stretched his legs and swiveled on his hips a few times to get more feeling into them. Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, Terkast contemplated what he could do.

He had a few hours before the next voting. However, the vote would be cancelled tonight and every subsequent night. The tributes should be making their own kills instead of relying on others. It would be funny to see their faces when Fandral announced that the voting was over.

Thoughts flew across his mind as to where he could go. With a smile, Terkast nearly skipped down the short hallway towards the elevator. He would go to the kitchens first. The energy supplement he had been taking sustained some of his bodily functions, but nothing could beat Hurley's food.

The elevator swooshed down, and Terkast stepped out on the linoleum a few minutes later. Servants and Avoxes were bustling about and it took Terkast a few minutes to regain control of his overloaded senses. A few called out to him – those that could – and he replied with a hand gesture.

"Hurley!" Terkast greeted, and the large cook turned around and smiled. He wiped his hands on his apron before grasping Terkast's hand in a large handshake.

"How are you doing my friend? I take it it's a break from the Games, no?" Hurley nodded to a small set in the corner of the kitchen that was fading in and out with static.

Terkast nodded. "I can't tell you everything, but tonight's going to be very different." This caught Hurley's attention and he raised an eyebrow. "Any ideas on who's going to win?"

"Now," Hurley began, turning around to continue to make mashed potatoes, "why would I tell you that? You're probably going to bet me, then make sure that tribute doesn't win!"

Laughter flowed lightly from both Capitolites' lips. "You really think I'd do that, huh?" Hurley didn't respond, but nodded furiously. "Listen, I got to go. Have any food to spare?"

"For you?" Hurley bellowed, clenching his hands over his stomach in laughter. "We _always_ have food for you. Not because you ordered it, but just because you _might_. Mr. Important Gamemaker."

He handed over a plate of sausages stacked neatly next to a plate of noodles. The noodles were covered in a white sauce, and it made Terkast's mouth water. "Thanks, Hurley," Terkast said. He was genuinely happy.

Hurley nodded then motioned for him to get out of the kitchen. "You're blocking the flow of traffic! But come back soon before you leave. I want to say goodbye, you dirty bastard!"

In the elevator, Terkast munched on the sausages happily. Hurley was a good friend of his. As he stepped out into a random floor, Terkast thought more on his life. Many people were 'friends' with him just because he was Head Gamemaker. Hurley wasn't. He was a generally nice guy that Terkast got to know from endless food trips in his years as an intern.

Thinking of those days, Terkast nodded. Mercury, to see if a person really wanted to become a Gamemaker, used the new kids as 'interns.' It pretty much meant 'slave,' though. So many food trips. In the end, Terkast was really happy to see the loony go.

"Wonder where he is now?" he said aloud to the empty corridor. With a slurp he inhaled some noodles and got some of the sauce on his chin.

Speaking of the Games, his were going well. The deaths, although an annoying point for the President, were going well for him. He wondered how the tribute's families were taking it, especially after Asher's unfortunate demise.

His Games, the 725th Games, were almost over. It saddened him but he also felt joyous for the future. He was no longer restricted to inside the cramped, crumby rooms with hundreds of blinking lights. No more fretting about the Games. No more watching mediocre tributes showing off mediocre skills. No, he could watch them at his own leisure.

Terkast counted the number of tributes on his hand. Eight, yes eight. That was another reason why the vote couldn't take place tonight. The Family Interviews were a wonderful time for the Capitol, and if he took a tribute out he would pay with his head.

The Family Interviews. Terkast licked his fingers clean, and thought more on them. He would have to make it back soon, but currently he was happy. He could take a break in the deaths without the President taking his head off.

**A/N: Updating! The next chapter is Family Interviews, so stay tuned for that! And please poll? Please?**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: So, here's the next chapter of **_**Control.**_** Enjoy the Family Interviews. And I'm sorry if I don't update soon, because softball season is coming up (I got a new bat!), drama is starting back up (techie for the win!), I have school (insert fake cheery interjection here!) and I'm trying to get a job (yay, money!). So, I am sorry, but please read, enjoy and review!**

All of the Escorts were crowded onto the single couch, pressing Maylin closer to the brothers. Her knees were under her chin and she stared balefully at the screen as she listened to their chatter.

Nothing was currently happening during the Games. Maylin knew the reason why, too. There were only eight tributes left and Family Interviews had just been announced. Currently Capitolites had swarmed the surviving tribute's family to get enough material to show on air.

Everyone was relaxing, and not even Cree was off hunting. Maylin figured that if someone was to try to make a kill now they'd be separated and killed after the Interviews.

A small Avox boy was going around with a platter full of stuffed mushrooms. She smiled sympathetically at him as he came around and took the dainty fungus. The boy returned a blank look, and Maylin wondered what he did to deserve a harsh life like this.

"They should have something other than Games shots," Shearon complained as she took a sip of wine. "Everyone knows there's nothing going on. If _I_ were a tribute, I'd sleep."

Every single escort agreed with her, and Maylin did so silently. The chatter swelled to a large amount but died down suddenly. "It's on!" Chiara screeched, alerting other people. A few Avoxes appeared to watch –laden down with food, obviously – and the room became silent.

"I hope you're enjoying your Games, Capitolites!" Charmain greeted as the screen flashed from a picture of Indas to a studio. "Now, for a big part of the Games. The Family Interviews!" Cheering could be heard inside the plush studio and in the Escort's Room. The noise was deafening.

"Let's go to Dewey Chaplin for Cree's family." The image flipped to a large, pristine white house filled with furniture of the same color. Dewey sat on a modest white loveseat while Cree's family was sitting on a white leather couch.

"Hello everyone. I'm here with Cree, the District One tribute's, family. Her mother's name is Osage. Osage is one of the most famous jewelry makers in District One, best known for her lavish earrings. Her father is Nawat and works with the Peacekeepers in District One. And we all know Yakama," Dewey said. The camera panned to each of them in turn, and all but Yakama were smiling.

Osage and Nawat held their hands tightly together as they smiled clearly fake smiles at the screen. Dewey shifted in his seat and asked them their first question. "How do you think you're daughter is doing in these Games?"

"Very well," Osage laughed. Her voice sounded smooth and melodic. "She's made us proud, she has! Especially beheading that District Eight runt." She nodded to Nawat, who began talking.

"She's also did a good job at guessing the tributes who die at night. She's good at that because I taught her that along with most of her weapon training." Yakama's scowl deepened. She nearly glared at her parents and edged away from them on the couch.

Dewey waited for the youngest daughter's response, but he had to coax it out of her. "How do _you_ think Cree is doing, Yakama. We all know you care for her because you cried out when she was Reaped."

Yakama nodded, but the scowl didn't leave her face. "Yes, I care. She's doing fine, and I really hope she beat everyone and comes home. It's not the same without her."

"Yes," Osage interrupted, "she and Cree are so _attached_ to each other! You'd think they were literally sewn together at the hip!" she laughed again, and Maylin felt her own lips pull into a small smile. Her laugh was very contagious.

Cree's father smiled and laughed along with her. His voice was gruffer but still held some structure and form.

"At home," he said, but Maylin was focused on Yakama's face. For a moment general astonishment appeared there before being replaced with the scowl. "It's so wonderful! Everyone's happy. Cree, Yakama and I train all the time. This little tyke," he rubbed Yakama's head affectionately, "will be volunteering when she's old enough, I hope. That's why we need Cree back, to motivate her!"

Yakama made a face again, and Dewey looked at her with concern. "Are you ok, Yakama?" he asked.

"I _would_ be," she snarled, careful façade broken, "if these two didn't spout _lies_ to you." There was a few seconds of silence before she started again. "I live alone with Cree. She took me out of the house when she was sixteen and when I was thirteen. They don't live with us and don't have any contact with us. The only reason Cree's going to win is because of _me. _Coming back to me so I don't have to live with _them_."

Although Dewey looked shocked, he continued on as if Yakama's outburst didn't happen. "Thank you, Sooke family, and good luck, Cree!"

Maylin frowned as Charmain came back on the screen and thanked Dewey. She never really had a family. Her family consisted of impatient Capitolites and endless food. She assumed Terkast could be considered her family now.

The next man introduced himself as Icarus. The people in District Four were sitting outside on a large picnic blanket. Three ginger people surrounded Icarus, and the mother was holding a baby in her arms.

"Now," he said, "let's introduce Joss' family. His parents are Correy and Jezin, and his sister's name is Misha. If you don't mind," he addressed Jezin, "who is that baby you're holding in your hands?"

Jezin smiled proudly and lifted up the baby to show him to the camera. "This is Niccolai. He was born shortly after Joss volunteered. He'll be as big as Joss soon."

Icarus smiled as he took a glance at the baby. "So, how do you think Joss is doing?"

Jezin began to speak again, softly rocking as she did so. "I'm extremely proud of him. He didn't get any kills yet, but he's survived."

"Especially with the voting!" Misha interjected. She was a happy child and her smile was clearly seen. "It scared me each night when the voting came on because Joss might be killed. It would have been unfair to him, especially because he didn't get to fight anyone."

Icarus laughed a little. "And you, sir?" he asked Correy. Correy winced as Icarus called him that.

"Well," he said in a slow, gruff voice, "I think Joss is doing well. Especially since… well… Joss had another sister, Pearl. She died in a Hunger Games past and he kinda went… amnesiac about it. I thought it'd affect him, but he didn't seem to remember it."

The interviewer seemed interested now. "Did he? Why do you think he hasn't gotten a kill yet?"

"Yes, he did." Jezin glared a little bit, indicating that thread of conversation was done with. "He almost had that District Eight whore, but she ran away at the last second. If they kept the Careers together as a pack he would have done a lot better."

Icarus nodded thoughtfully. "That would have made it more interesting," he mused. "Anyway, thanks for your time!"

Misha yelled a 'Good luck, Joss!' before the screen went back to Charmain. The Avox's frown grew even deeper. On the screen, the tributes seemed like pawns to move about to one's whims. They were fun to watch die, but they had no real significance. Now that she was giving their faces back stories and families, Maylin felt a little sick to her stomach.

When Corson's house came up, Maylin lurched a little. She remembered laughing in the tiny place, and a tear plopped into her lap as Lilianna's face came on. Lilianna was sitting with her parents and her younger brother Blue.

Iago, the interviewer, announced their names and got right down to business. "How do you feel that Corson has reached the Final Eight?" he asked. Iago swung the microphone around, guessing which person would answer first.

"I knew he could have done it," Lilianna said quietly. Even hearing her voice, though it had matured much more throughout the years, brought tears to his eyes. "The Quarter Quell helped a little bit, but his quick wit helped more."

"He kept away from the brutes," Faro said. His hands were fidgeting in his lap. "Corson knows traps, so he can survive that way. He can just set up a bunch of them, wait for the tributes to walk into them and come away without having to kill anyone."

Marybelle nodded. "He's a good boy. These Games will corrupt him if he kills someone," she murmured sadly.

"What about your thoughts, Blue? How old are you, anyway?" Iago asked, the microphone directly in the younger child's face.

Blue made a face at the devices proximity and slowly pushed it away. "I'm ten. I'm really proud of Corson, 'cause he's the best brother ever! He always helps me with my homework, and he says he likes me best." Blue turned to Lilianna sheepishly and added in a 'sorry.'

Iago giggled and began swinging the microphone around again. "Any other thoughts?" he asked.

Lilianna grabbed the microphone violently and pulled it closer to her mouth. "I know what you're all thinking: 'Corson is just another tribute, why should I care?' Well he _isn't_. He's a decent boy who was thrust into these Games, and had no training for them. If anyone deserves to live, it's Corson."

The interviewer yanked the microphone back and thanked the family. Soon Charmain's face filled the screen again, babbling about the last interview.

In front of a small hut-like house was Linea's family. Her parents were sitting as close together as possible while the brothers sat on either side of them. "I'm Banal Diction, and this is Linea's family!" the interviewer nearly screeched into her microphone.

"This is Tiari, Kakuna, Mizunu and Jaques," she introduced, pointing to each in turn. The brothers nodded solemnly when their name was called, but the parents did nothing. "How do you, like, think of Linea for, like, getting this far?" she asked. Maylin could just imagine her smacking gum as she talked.

"Linea is a good girl," Tiari started. "She was always so nice and kind in school, and excelled at everything. She worked with Mizunu on spear-handling."

Mizunu nodded. "Yeah. She's really good with it. Liked learning a lot."

"She's in the Final Eight," Kakuna said. "But, and I know you guys are going to hate me for this, I didn't think she'd make it this far. She was just so _nice_ and _quiet_, and there were a bunch of Careers." He tried to smile, but it was immediately shot down by the looks of disgust in his family. Maylin felt immediate disgust for the man, also. "The Quarter Quell helped her a lot though, especially since all the tributes started far away from each other."

"Thanks," Banal giggled, seemingly paying no attention to the comments Kakuna said. "Now to, uh, Bulla with, like, Wolf!"

The screen changed immediately, partially because they were in the same District. A nicer house was shown and four people, not including Bulla, were sitting in front of it. Two of them were clearly twins and one was Wolf's father. The other, Maylin assumed, was Wolf's best friend.

"Hi," Bulla said, brushing her long blue hair away from her forehead. "This is Kristofer, Wolf's father. He is one of the head men making hovercrafts for the Capitol to use, how wonderful!" Kristofer offered a strained smile, and hugged one of his daughters closer. "And these are Amaryllis and Lilly, Wolf's twin sisters." The girls smiled and Amaryllis scrabbled out from underneath her father's strong grasp. Holding hands, the two waved at the cameras with large smiles.

"Lastly, this is Boone Tithers, Wolf's best friend." Boone shifted nervously in his seat and let out an extremely feminine giggle. "Now, what do you think about Wolf getting to the Final Eight?"

Lilly smiled and nudged Amaryllis. "Well, he's our brother," she stated, slightly sarcastic. "So of course he's going to do well. You've seen him set up a few traps, he knows what he's doing. He works enough with us, and we work for the Labs already. And it shows in the Games." Amaryllis finished with a flourish of her hands and Lilly just smiled.

"Well, the girls are right. Wolf… worked a lot in the house after his mother died. I wasn't home enough to keep in clean and it was kinda falling apart. His sisters helped him, and he learned a lot from them. We needed the income and he liked making the circuits and motors work." Kristopher's hands shifted in his lap. "I guess it's a valuable skill. We don't train our children here, so valuable skills like his that actually help in the long run are pretty good."

Bulla offered her thanks to the small family. "What about you, Boone? How do you feel about Wolf? How did you meet him?"

Immediately color rushed to Boone's face. His cheeks were slowly turning a deep purple color, and he was hard to understand. "Well," he stammered, "Wolf and I go to school together, so I got to know him really well through there. We kinda hung out from there, and I think he's a lot more than my best friend."

"Oh, how nice," Bulla commented before turning to the family again. She completely missed Boone's last comment but Maylin read her lips. It was a sad, quiet 'But I love him.'

"How do you think Wolf will win this one?" Bulla asked. Lilly giggled loudly and she turned to her, but Lilly just shook her head.

"With his traps, duh," Amaryllis stated. "I've already told you he's really skilled in them. He can just trap everybody, even the other trappy-people, and win. My baby brother will be back within no time!"

Bulla thanked the family before wishing Wolf good luck in the rest of the Games. Maylin sat thinking about Boone's last comment. Clearly nobody else had heard it, for they were all still silent as they stared at the screen. If the escorts had caught it, she knew that they would have been loud and obnoxious. Nothing was better in the Capitol than juicy tribute gossip.

"Almost done," Charmain tinkled as she faded away to reveal Donahue. The hulking man sat in front of Tristan's family with a pained smile on.

"Here I am with Tristan Workle's family in District Nine. I have Cleo Workle, Thai Workle and Tyto Workle. Say 'hello,' guys." The family responded with hellos of varying loudness. However, Donahue just plowed on through.

"Tristan seems to be doing very well in these Games," he commented. "I mean, he already escaped from the fire and had the first kill of the Games! How do you feel about your son's accomplishments?"

Tyto grimaced but Thai began talking. "He's making his family proud. He shows the entire country that District Nine is not afraid to kill for what they really desire. And, if he wins, he brings himself glory and –"

"And more importantly," Cleo interjected, "he brings his entire District food. I think that that is more important than glory. Everyone in your District will love you forever for feeding them a bit longer. As the saying goes 'The most effective way to a person is through their stomach.'"

Tyto barked a laugh. "I think it's 'a man's stomach, mom," he said. "I think Tristan might actually win this one, though. He's going to make Alba really happy, wherever she is. Just knowing that he can avenge her death makes me happy, and so it must make her happy."

A few escorts said 'awwww' at the last sentence, making Maylin snort. She could imagine millions of other people doing the same thing around Panem, especially avid Tristan fans.

"Do you think Tristan is thinking of… Alba… during the Games?" Donohue asked. Cleo began to speak, but Tyto cut her off. He was much more informed to talk about his dead twin than anyone else.

"Of course he is!" he shouted. "He would be stupid not to. I think that Alba was his guardian angel, especially with the fire. I can see it in his eyes, too. Hope is there. He must have someone giving it to him. He'll come home so that Alba's memory can finally rest with me. With all of us."

Donahue grinned at the boy. "Thanks for your time and you… _strong_… opinions. Good luck, Tristan. Your family, especially Alba, want you home."

Charmain popped up again, nearly fawning over Tyto. He wasn't a bad looking kid and, to quote her, 'he has such a heart, and he's broken. Any girl would gladly take him. He needs to be fixed up, the poor thing.'

There were only two more tribute's families to go to. One was Arrett, one of the only twelve-year-olds in the Games, and the other was Indas who was currently considered the 'bad guy' for killing off Asher in such a gruesome way.

Frigga, one of the most well-known interviewers in the Games sat patiently in front of Arrett's family. They were in front of a small house that was painted a dark green. A light spotted cow in the background lowed mournfully. Maylin knew that most people didn't know what that sound was and turned their heads toward it in confusion.

"Now, this is Mint, Rose and Coopa. How do you guys feel about Arrett making it to the Final Eight, especially since he was one of the youngest tributes?" Frigga asked. Her voice was perfectly balanced and she actually seemed if she cared about the welfare of this family.

"He's done very well," Mint said coolly. "He's impressed me with his skill at keeping away from others. It seems that he _does_ have something in common with his brothers after all."

"Brothers?" Frigga asked, at the same time Rose chastised her mother. "I really don't understand," the calm interviewer asked, brushing her curly brown hair behind her ears.

"My mother was referring to Niart and Kello. Arrett mentioned them in his interview? They _were_ killed in a stampede. Father began to drink and mother was working so hard to make sure we didn't lose what we had," Rose explained.

"I didn't drink that much!" Coopa protested. He stood up but fell down again as a patch of dizziness came over him. He burped into his hand and slurred to the camera, "Moonshine is just a… wonderful drink."

Rose nodded tartly and turned back to Frigga. "With my parents both sucking as parents," she gave a pointed glance towards each of them, "I had to step in. That's why Arrett loves me the best. I taught him stuff, and he's doing really well. I just hope my little brother comes back, because I can't stand to lose him."

A tear fell from Rose's cheek and it's trail glistened in the camera light. Frigga patted her on the shoulder. However, Rose pulled away with a sniff and steeled herself. "If it comes down to it, Arrett will make me proud, I know he will." She pushed a strand of dark ginger hair out of my face. "He's strong. Stronger than any of us combined."

"Thank you, dear," Frigga said calmly. She wished Arrett good luck in the rest of the Games and Rose nodded solemnly. Coopa jerked his head up as if he had been sleeping and Mint tried to give a friendly smile but failed.

"And here's your last Family Interview!" Charmain announced. A few escorts twittered around, but most of them stayed silent. This was the main event for them until it got down to the Final Three. It gave them a look into the odd, poor ways of the Districts and was utterly fascinating.

Indas' family was seated in a beautiful blooming cherry orchard. The petals blew with every gust of wind and made the scene utterly remarkable. "My name is Hela and I'm here with Distura, Gibbert, Mayalla, and Sean and Seamus. How lucky is Indas to survive this far?"

"Lucky?" Gibbert spat. "He's worked hard for this, he's not _lucky_. He worked hard in the fields bringing in money and food, and you consider him _lucky_?" Distura placed her hand on his shoulder to calm him down, but she was shaken off.

"Just because you Capitol peacocks can't stand a little torture in the Games means you shun him. I heard the televisions that night. Everyone was in uproar over a single hanging, yet Careers can carve their names into living victims? I see how this is going. You like your 'special Career Districts' and leave the rest of us to flounder in the dirt and starve! Someone should –"

The broadcast cut away from the man and left Charmain speechless. "Uh, thank you?" she said, but it was clearly called in confusion. "That was the conclusion of your wonderful Family Interviews! Now the killing can begin again."

The screen dropped Charmain and focused on Corson as he tried to make small-talk with Sayuh. It still wasn't working.

The escorts began chatting amongst themselves in excitement. The noise was almost deafening, but Maylin easily tuned it out. She felt that the excitement of the rest of the Games was slightly muted now. She couldn't watch children kill each other after learning their pasts and problems. That's what was wrong with the Family Interviews, no matter how entertaining they might be. The tributes actually meant something to her now.

**A/N: So, I've kinda accepted the fact that I'm only going to get one review per chapter (thank you Europa!). I'm just happy that you guys are reading. But perhaps (perhaps….) if I raise the ante? If you review, I might allow you to get a sponsor gift to the tribute of your choice. It also **_**might**_** affect the outcome of the Games… interested? **


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: This update was brought to you by one of my only free days. Very elusive creatures, they are. Anyway, read, enjoy and review!**

Terkast smiled as he turned away from the screens showing Charmain's peppy face. With the Family Interviews over, he could finally get back to watching the tributes fight to the death. It was much more important than watching District leeches blabber on about their children. Seven of the eight would die soon, anyway.

The moon was beginning its downward curve in the sky, and the tributes were still holed up. Terkast sneered. There were only eight of them left, and they intended to wait the period out. He would have to do something about that.

He muttered to Jahall, and she smirked next to him. The dogs began howling in District One with a little prompting. Their cries could be heard all over the arena, and most of the tributes jumped in fear.

A small Avox girl came over to Terkast with a note clenched in her hands. He thanked her and she smiled toothily at him – as much as she could, anyway. Her two front teeth were missing, and Terkast laughed at the cute sight.

She giggled before going back over to the other side. Still in a jocular mood, Terkast opened the note and studied the contents. He frowned. It was rather late into the Games, and five hundred dollars wouldn't be worth much towards the gift they wanted.

"Uh, Hulton?" he asked, and the younger Gamemaker looked at him excitedly. "I need a deadly poison worth five hundred dollars sent to Cree, ok?"

The young man nodded exuberantly, and began mashing buttons. The engineers had automatically upped the prices of the gifts, and Terkast watched a few that increased just as Hulton was looking through them.

"Five hundred?" Hulton asked, and Terkast nodded. As he was turning back to the screens, Hulton muttered, "Not very much, is it?" and made the Head Gamemaker laugh.

A small package fluttered down to Cree, the little parachute bright in the gloom of the night. Cree looked upwards as it spiraled into her hands and began profusely thanking her mentors.

She opened it and a few bright red berries spilled out into her hands. Terkast raised his eyebrows. Five hundred dollars could buy a handful of asparagus berries this late in the Games? The prices of some things must be dropping, then.

Cree rolled the berries between her fingers and picked one up to smell it. "Oh," Shanna wailed, "I hope she doesn't eat them! That'd be counter-productive!"

She made a face at the bitter scent and put them back down in the parachute. "What am I supposed to do with _these_?" she asked the sky. One could tell that she was disappointed in her first sponsor gift.

Terkast laughed quietly to himself as Gretel began spouting profanities at the screen. "You told me you knew about poisons! Use them! Use them!"

A few Gamemakers snickered as they watched Cree roll up the berries and tuck them into her waistband. She sighed and picked up her tomahawk. Cree stretched for a few seconds, to expel the stiffness in her legs, before starting a light jog through the Districts.

Linea was sleeping in her fortress made out of training dummies. Trunks sat solemnly as he watched her, and his fellow packmates played around him. He snarled and immediately they became quiet. Linea had moved a few inches in her sleep, but didn't wake.

Corson lazed about and was resting against the rock wall. He was softly singing to himself and playing with a small spool of wire in his hands. He had given up trying to make contact with his dogs, and they sat watching him contentedly.

In District Two, Arrett was playing around with his bow and arrows. He pulled the string taut and released it, but there wasn't an arrow in the weapon. He made sound effects as he released it, and shouted triumphantly. "Hah, right through the eye!" he crowed.

A stone by his foot moved, and Arrett stopped his joyful celebration. He looked around wildly and actually placed an arrow into the bow. "Who's there?" he called out, swinging the weapon from side to side.

The stone opened its eyes, and Arrett jumped. However, he visibly relaxed afterwards. The stone was a mutt, but it didn't seem to be doing much harm. He went back to playing, but kept a wary eye on the stone.

Tristan began to walk quickly through the Districts. He was muttering to himself and kept fingering the boomerang at his belt. Terkast hoped insanity had gotten Tristan. Nothing was more fun to watch than an insane tribute on a rampage.

Joss was also moving through the Districts, but he seemed to have a destination in mind. He was pointedly walking towards District Four, and Terkast knew he wanted to go as close to home as possible. Joss avoided the horses, and it was a miracle they still hadn't seen him.

Still in District Ten, Wolf was constructing a trap. He smiled as he worked and hummed a happy tune. Stakes were driven deep into the ground, laced with silvery wire. Terkast wondered vaguely what would happen if the horses were to walk through it. Sleipnir probably wouldn't be very happy. With a flourish, Wolf attached his only knife to a strand of wire and buried it under a few strands of grass.

Lastly, Indas came upon some drawings in the sand. District Eight was boring him, and he was soon to move on. He scoffed at the doodles and erased them quickly. With a grunt he began to walk towards the burnt down District Twelve. Indas was trying to avoid people, and a dead District seemed like the best place.

Terkast frowned. He was happy, yet this annoyed him. The tributes were all – for the most part, anyway – moving around. However, the arena was still too large for them to have a good chance to meet.

Linea awoke, her eyes wide with fear. The dogs immediately sat up and watched her intently. "I'm getting out of here," she whispered, and gathered her small amount of things. She eyed Trunks warily before sprinting through District One.

The dogs trotted beside her, and Linea whimpered. She was exerting herself to her fullest, but they didn't seem to be doing much. As she pushed herself to her limit, several items fell from her backpack.

She whined as they fell, but didn't stop and pick them up. She could see the changing Districts ahead and didn't want to stop. She stumbled into the sand of District Four and watched the dogs fearfully. Linea sighed in relief when she realized they couldn't follow her.

The District Six girl wandered on her own for a few minutes before sitting down next to the water. She tried scooping a handful of seawater into her mouth before spitting it out in disgust.

Terkast swiveled his head to the screen with Joss. He was creeping across the Districts, following the scent of salt. The Head Gamemaker hoped that Linea and Joss would have a faceoff in District Four.

The other tributes were doing well though. The ending was drawing them all out of their holes. They felt the end was near, and they knew they had to make at least one kill to win. Thus they came out and began looking.

Cree was jogging lightly and stopped dead in her tracks. The pack on her back ceased banging against her bodice as she glared into the crisped District. Indas' form could be seen moving through the barren District.

The last Career reached into her pack and quickly pulled her hand out. Red juice dripped from her fingers and she made a face. Gretel began yelling again, but Terkast tuned her out. He wanted to see if Cree would remember that the berries were deadly.

A few seconds passed, and Terkast was about to give up on her. However, she smelled the juice and exclaimed joyfully. Cree pulled out the small parachute that was covered in red poisonous juice. Then, she applied the pulp to the head of her tomahawk and discarded the rest.

With a snarl, Cree brandished her tomahawk and began dashing towards Indas in District Twelve. Terkast placed his chin in his hands, completely infatuated with the current proceedings. He wanted a big fight, and Cree versus Indas was a good one.

Indas didn't notice the Career until she was upon him. With a feral cry, Cree brought her tomahawk down on his arm. The weapon easily diced Indas' arm but got lodged within his bone.

The District Eleven boy screamed. The noise was like a grater on Terkast's ears and he covered them. Indas scrambled up and away from Cree, the tomahawk dangling from his arm limply.

Cree took a step forward, and Indas took one backwards. "You can evade me all you want," Cree taunted, "but it won't work, really."

Indas' mouth hung open. "I know I'm better at running than you," he panted through the pain. "Longer legs."

Cree laughed giddily at his retort. "Sure, you _might_ be better at running than me, but you have a deep wound. And, if I'm not mistaken, it's poisoned."

Indas snarled and ripped the bloodied weapon from his arm. "I don't feel anything. You're bluffing!" Cree just laughed again.

"Just wait," she announced, and sat down in the ashy remains of District Twelve. Indas was too scared to make an advance towards her, even though he had her weapon. She might have another weapon concealed, and that meant certain death. He steadied himself as one of the earthquakes ripped through the District and stared her down.

"You see, I wasn't sure exactly about those berries when I first got them. I _knew_ they were poisonous just by the smell, but it's only when they got crushed I knew what to do. And who would be a better target to try things out than you? My greatest rival right now?"

Indas bared his teeth at Cree's words and threw the tomahawk as far away as possible. "Hand to hand. Now. You die." He raised his large hands, palm open, towards Cree.

The District One girl laughed and took a fighting stance. "Bring it on. But I'm not going to die." Indas shuffled towards Cree, and grabbed her shoulder in his big hand. Cree ducked out of the hold, but not before Indas left giant ruts in her skin.

"Not bad," she panted, giving a swift kick to Indas' kneecap. She missed and Indas went for her eyes. Seeing what he was planning to do beforehand, Cree jerked away. He ended up grabbing a chunk of her nose and ripping it free.

Cree's lower face was now dripping with blood, but she didn't back down. She landed a punch to Indas' face, and he fell. Cree looked confused. There was power in that punch, but not enough to fell a large person like him.

Indas began retching on the floor, bringing up light brown bile and nothing else. His body began to convulse on the floor, and Cree stepped out of the way.

"Wh-what did you _do_, you b-b-bitch?" he stammered, trying to get to his feet. Cree stepped backwards and slipped in the dark liquid. She regained her balance easily, and looked up at Indas. He was having trouble breathing, and Cree laughed breathlessly at him.

"Poison. I _told_ you." A dark crack appeared in the ground, followed by a low rumble. Cree stepped backwards uncertainly as the crack grew. "What's that?" she asked herself, and began running in the opposite direction.

The crack grew in size and Indas screamed. "Where are you going, whore?" he screeched, his voice cracking in the middle. "Come back and s-save me!"

The largest rumble yet shook the Meadow and a large nose poked up through the ground. Indas screamed again as the nose sniffed for him. Blunt teeth took hold of his body and slowly dragged him down. Screeches were heard along with several grinding noises.

Cree didn't even look back as the cannon boomed several seconds later. It seemed she just wanted to get away. However, the other tributes noticed and looked towards the sere District Twelve. Joss stopped dead in his pursuit of District Four to glare in its direction.

With a sniff he continued on, though. The salt in the air was almost palpable, and it smelled strongly of low tide. That was the home he knew and loved. Salt clung to every breath he inhaled and chapped his lips. His tongue swiftly ran over his chapped lips, wetting them and preparing them for another barrage of salt.

Joss sighed as his feet made contact with the sand. He quickly slipped off his shoes and took a few steps farther into the District before collapsing in ecstasy. "I'm hope," he whispered, making a sand-angel on the ground.

Terkast turned away from the screen to do another quick sweep of the tributes. There were only seven left, now. He touched the fire button lightly, but quickly decided against it. There would be time later for fire, and much of it. He mustn't press his luck now.

In District Two, Arrett sat straight up on his perch. He eyed the figure of Corson warily as it slowly moved passed in another District. He readied an arrow and shot it.

Terkast's eyes watched the arrow as it arced across the District and headed for the unwary District Five boy. It landed a few feet short with a 'whump.'

Corson immediately jerked his head up. Terkast could see his eyes tracing the trajectory of the projectile, and barely got out of the way as another came hurtling towards him. Corson locked eyes with Arrett and bared his teeth slightly before dashing away.

Arrett cursed as his prey ran away. In a split second decision, he began clamoring down the side of the Mountain. A few stone mutts looked at him joyfully before they began tumbling down with him.

The mutts created a lot of noise as they rolled down the Mountain, and loosed a lot of stones. The debris began to conjoin, creating a wall of impassable wreckage that was plummeting down.

Arrett yelped as a stone bounced off the mountainside next to him, barely missing his hand. He looked upwards and realized something too late. In his haste he excited the mutts. And these mutts were specifically designed to create avalanches and mudslides.

The wall of flotsam quickly ate up the young boy and carried him towards the ground at breakneck speeds. Arrows flew out of their quiver and quickly disappeared under the mud. No sounds could be heard anymore, and Terkast turned away sadly. He had hoped the younger boy went further.

A yell turned his attention to Linea's screen, where she and Joss had finally met. Terkast smiled happily. He wanted this to happen, and when the victor emerged there would only be six tributes left.

Joss feinted to the left and caught Linea upside the head with a swift kick. She screeched as she fell into the sand, but quickly got up.

She knew she would never win in hand to hand combat, so Linea did the one thing that might have guaranteed her life. She ran.

Joss followed her for a few paces, but stopped when he saw her course. He had Linea backed up against the ocean when he first saw her, and she took the only route that was left to her. Linea had chosen the tumultuous water over certain death.

She floundered in the water for a few seconds, then looked back at Joss' face. She squeaked and moved into deeper water. Joss sat down on the edge of the sand and watched her struggle. If she tried to leave it, he would strike.

Terkast smiled and laughed to himself. Yes, the Games were certainly ending soon. The tributes felt it. They had been displaced and were currently duking it out. He couldn't wait to see who would become the Victor of the 725th Hunger Games. His last Victor.

**A/N: Sorry if it isn't that good. I just didn't feel into it this time. Review, please? And the poll is still up! Sadly, I can't do the sponsor gift = review anymore, because nobody (save one person) is doing it and that'd be unfair. Anyway, thanks!**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: New chapter, sorry for the delay! Anyway, enjoy this blood-filled chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Read, enjoy and review!**

Linea had been struggling in the water for a few minutes now, and Terkast could tell she was getting tired. She was gasping, and kept dipping below the waterline.

The District Six girl swam forward a few paces and gave Joss a fearful look. She didn't want to drown, but she also didn't want to face the Career. Joss still sat in the sand, and he didn't seem to care much. He was waiting for her, for either way she would die.

Linea found her footing on the sand and stepped forward a few more paces. Joss sat up and watched her approach slowly. The ground beneath her rose steadily, and soon Linea was in water up to her ankles.

Joss cautiously got to his feet and approached her. He smiled joylessly at her, and Linea's face paled. She returned a shaky smile, steeling herself for her death. "I'm not afraid of you, you know," she said. The statement started out as a whisper but quickly grew strong.

"That's good," Joss replied. His voice was pleasant, and his defensive stance dropped to a more casual one. Linea took advantage of this and edged a few steps to the right and closer to Joss.

He raised his hand in a gentlemanlike manner and Linea flinched. "Sorry," she giggled. She took another step forward and Joss' eyes narrowed. "Do… do you know what happened to the District Eight girl?" Linea asked, knowing Joss had relations with her.

His smile immediately dropped into a scowl. "Yeah," he growled. "She's a whore, just like I thought. Left me, and then died. I would've protected her."

Linea laughed quietly. "How about protecting me?" she asked. She took another step forward and was almost touching Joss. Her defensive position didn't drop, but it seemed more relaxed than before.

"What are you?" Joss asked, trying to conceal his laughter, "Twelve?" Linea's face dropped into a scowl and her fists bunched up.

"I am not," she replied indignantly. "I am a very mature fourteen year old, thank you very much." This time, Joss laughed out loud.

With a war cry, Linea launched herself at Joss' ankles. He gasped in pain as she thudded against his leg and brought him to the ground. They grappled for a few seconds, making sand fly up around them.

"You bitch," he panted as he overpowered Linea and pinned her to the ground. His knees dug into her arms, and they fluttered weakly in the sand under their captors. Joss sat up and wiped spit from his face. "You're going to pay for that," he panted, and started to punch her.

Blood spattered from her nose, and Joss landed upwards of ten punches. However, Linea caught his hands in her mouth one lucky hit. Joss screamed as she bit down and broke skin.

He got up off of her and shook his hand from his mouth, sprouting profanities. Linea stood up shakily, blood coursing down her front and a black eye beginning to form. She laughed dazedly, and took another step forward.

"I was willing to spare you," Joss spat. Linea laughed again, and launched herself at him again. This time, the bone in his shin snapped. Joss screamed and fell on top of Linea.

He was soon on top of her again, and he broke several of her bones. Joss grabbed her arm angrily and snapped it in an act of inhuman strength. The fight seemed to drain out of Linea and she lay limply in the sand.

Joss stood up, balancing steadily on his unbroken leg. "That's what you get," he growled. He kneeled down again, and Linea grasped for his face again, but missed. With a grunt, Joss pushed Linea further into the surf.

He pushed backwards in the sand and watched as the tide slowly pulled Linea out. Eventually the water couldn't pull her anymore and she lay a few inches or so into the water. The waves crashed over his mouth and nose, and Linea spat the first few out. Soon, however, the water began to come in quicker and quicker (Cera's doing) and drowned the poor girl.

Joss sighed in relief as her cannon went off and massaged his broken shin. With a grunt he lay down in the sand and fell unconscious.

Terkast sat back in his chair. This death wasn't exactly as he planned, for he planned the girl to die as she floundered out in the middle of the fake ocean. Terkast hadn't counted on Linea being brave and facing her attacker.

She did well in injuring him before she died. His shin bone was definitely broken and messed up his hand. In his weakened state, Joss would be easy prey for other tributes.

The Head Gamemaker looked around the screens again. There wasn't much variety anymore, since they were only down to five tributes.

Cree was currently in District Eight, rooting through the sand at a fast pace. Blood coursed freely down her front, staining the already grimy outfit she wore. A large hole was in place on her face, where her nose once resided. Terkast fully expected a sum of money to come through at any moment for a gift that would help staunch the flow of blood.

In District Seven, Tristan was sitting in the shade of an intimidating oak tree. The boomerang was out at his side, and he kept throwing it. The weapon returned faithfully each time, like a loyal lapdog.

Terkast hoped that he would go hunting. There were only five of them, so surely he would be involved in their deaths. He was slowly going insane, the Head Gamemaker decided. Slowly but surely. He would hopefully take out some more tributes by the end.

Terkast turned his head, seeking out some other screens to watch. Oddly enough, Wolf was out and pacing around the arena. He was still whistling happily, although he was in the burned-out wasteland of District Five. Wolf was looking around him, but couldn't find anything to his liking. Terkast wondered what he was doing, but quickly dismissed it.

Corson was exactly where Terkast expected him to be, in District One. The boy had felt secure within the bastion of training supplies and had no motivation to leave. His motive was probably 'let the others kill themselves off.' That way, Corson would be stronger when he was to face the tributes.

However, Wolf was walking steadily through the Districts. Terkast hoped against hope that the two would meet and have an epic showdown.

Oddly enough, the last three cameras were focused steadily on the rubble from the Mountain. Terkast stared at it for a while, perplexed. Eventually, a small hand broke the surface, and Terkast's heart jumped in his chest.

Arrett was alive? The Head Gamemaker wracked his mind and came up blank. The Head Gamemaker cursed himself for allowing himself to think that the boy's cannon had gone off when it clearly hadn't.

The young District Ten boy's arm created a hole in the surface, and another arm popped out. Slowly, Arrett dug himself out of the landslide and sat by the hole. He was panting heavily and gulping the air as quickly as his lungs would allow it.

When he had gotten his breath back from being cooped up underground for long enough, Arrett reached back inside the hole. Terkast couldn't find it in himself to look away. The boy had survived a mudslide created by mutts, which was pretty impressive. But what was more impressive was that he managed to come out unscathed!

Arrett fiddled around inside the hole for a few seconds before pulling out his bow. A smile graced his dirty features as he presumably went back in for his quiver. The boy was coated in dirt and mud, and not a clean space on his body could be seen.

The boy crowed happily as he found the quiver, but his happiness dissipated when he looked inside. The majority of the arrows were missing, and the few that Arrett pulled out were snapped in half. He let these fall miserably to the ground as he pulled out a whole one.

"Gotta be careful with you," Arrett muttered, tucking the arrow carefully back into the quiver. He looked forlornly at the broken heads before shoving them in a bit more haphazardly. With a sigh, Arrett shuffled down from the pile of debris and settled in the familiar grasses of District Ten.

Terkast tensed excitedly as the boy almost triggered Wolf's trap, but he passed harmlessly next to it. In a dip of land Arrett seemed to recognize he laid down, and within a few minutes he was asleep.

There were six tributes wandering around the arena now, Terkast thought. It would be better that Arrett was alive, so that he could kill or be killed as he pleased. There would hopefully be more confrontation, and the boy wouldn't be killed by something so trivial like a landslide.

Terkast turned around in his chair, and jumped at the sight of the small Avox boy. He smiled in relief, which made Terkast believe that he had been waiting for a while. The Head Gamemaker apologized in a low voice and quickly took the parcel from him.

Like he had thought previously, it was for Cree. A hefty pile of bills flopped out onto the table. Terkast grabbed them and quickly leafed through them, but was disappointed. The large amount of bills would indicate that it would be an overzealous amount of money. But it was only two thousand dollars, a common occurrence this late in the Games.

A note also fluttered out, and the Head Gamemaker read it quickly. "A well-stocked first aid kit that specializes in what Cree needs," Terkast read quietly to himself. He shrugged, figured out the numbers in his head, and decided it was a suitable gift.

"Hulton?" Terkast called. The younger Gamemaker looked at him excitedly, the novelty of being a Gamemaker still fresh on him. "Cree needs a first aid kit to help her… lack of nose. Two thousand dollars."

Hulton nodded and began flicking through the images on screen again. Terkast watched him for a few seconds before something came to his mind. "And will someone please get my Avox? I think she's had enough fun with my brothers," he said in a light, joking manner.

The Avox boy from before scuttled across the room and opened the door. Someone probably told him where Maylin was, and he was eager to get the job done quickly. Maylin would be back with him in minutes.

To quell his boredom, Terkast once again watched the screens. Cree looked up happily as the package came floating down to her. She knew exactly what was inside, and fell upon it the second it was in reaching distance.

The only girl tribute left grabbed greedily at the cloth on the ground. She wiped the blood from her face and growled when the dried blood didn't come off. Since there was no water, Cree spat on the cleaning cloth and resumed wiping her face.

Trails of clean skin were now visible beneath her chin, and Cree repeated the action on two more cloths. She held a fourth to her nose as she discarded the other cloths and grappled for some cream.

Cree hissed when she applied the cream to her raw face, but continued to apply it. The blood flow slowed down, but it still was oozing out at an unsafe pace. Cree took another cloth and held it tightly to her lack of nose while she took some medical tape out. She ripped a few strands off the tape and secured the cloth to her face.

Slowly the District One tribute packed up her supplies and took special care with the bandages and cloth. She looked around for a moment, before settling her gaze on an outcropping of rock. She sluggishly pulled herself towards it, and once under its protective shade, Cree fell asleep.

Terkast frowned. One half of the tributes were currently sleeping. Although, sleeping wasn't the right definition. Joss was probably unconscious due to the shock because of his broken leg. Arrett was unconscious due to exhaustion, and Cree was unconscious because of blood loss.

That left Tristan, Wolf and Corson. Happily, Terkast noticed that Wolf was much closer to District One than he was before. Soon he would be in Corson's line of sight, and hopefully a battle would begin.

The Control Room's door opened and closed with a small 'snick,' and the Avox boy rushed past to the other side. The chair by the door scraped a little against the floor as Maylin sat down. Immediately, Terkast felt pent up frustration he didn't remember having leave his body.

He turned around and gave Maylin a thumbs up. She returned it with a smile, and nodded towards the screen. Terkast also nodded, and called forth another Avox.

The boy came forth again, and Terkast gave him an order. "Down to the kitchens. There's some filet mignon waiting. And get a turtle pie, too." The boy nodded and drew away again. He glanced at Maylin's casual sitting place with envy as he left the room again.

Terkast watched with baited breath as Wolf wandered closer to Corson. He was still whistling a happy tune, seemingly wanting to draw as much attention to himself as possible. The District Five boy looked up with suspicion as Wolf waltzed by, and tried to make as little noise as possible.

However, Wolf noticed something and stopped. His whistling died off, but not before he finished the last notes of his tune. "I know you're there, coward," Wolf cried out to Corson. The boy didn't move though, and only hid himself further.

"Oh, come on," Wolf teased, trying to make his prey enraged. "My older sisters have more guts than you, and they just stay in the house all day."

Still, nothing came out of Corson's mouth. "I don't have a weapon," Wolf wheedled. "But I doubt you could beat me _with_ a weapon, anyhow."

Corson shifted in his hiding place, and Wolf turned towards it aggressively. "Your parents wouldn't be too proud of you, you know," Wolf called, walking closer to Corson. "You won't win if you don't do something ballsy.

"Your parents would be mighty ashamed. 'My kid's the one who died without killing someone. I doubted he could the entire time,' they'd say!"

Corson stood up, his face coloring in anger. "My parents would be proud of me, anyway," he growled. The District Five boy shrank backwards as Wolf laughed.

"Highly doubt that," Wolf countered. "Why not show them you're worth something? Fight me!"

Corson was taken aback by the request, but stepped forward willingly enough. "I will," he replied shakily. "Don't doubt me. My parents would be proud of me either way. So will Blue."

"Blue?" Wolf laughed. "Who named their kid after a color? He's probably retarded." Corson snarled and leapt at Wolf, but the younger child nimbly dodged it. "You need to catch me, first!"

Wolf sprinted ahead, carefully following his path back to District Ten. Terkast laughed jovially, because he realized what Wolf had been up to the entire time. He had been trying to attract attention so that he could lure a pursuing tribute to his trap.

Although neither of the tributes could run well, adrenaline and anger fueled them. The made quick progress across District Eight, passing close to the unconscious form of Cree.

Still, Corson wouldn't let up. Terkast knew from the Family interviews how Blue felt about Corson and vice versa. They were close, so Corson would take an insult about his younger brother personally.

In District Ten, they dashed past Arrett. Wolf looked at the boy's form with surprise, because he didn't know there was anybody else in District Ten. He probably made up his mind to kill him afterwards.

By this time, both boys were panting heavily. However, neither of them were close to giving up. If Wolf could keep running, he could check Corson off the list of surviving tributes. But if Corson could outrun Wolf, he would surely throttle him to death.

Wolf's eyes gleamed as he spotted the small wires in the distant grass. He feigned injury, which prompted Corson to run faster. The large distance between the two was rapidly closing, but so was the distance to Wolf's deadly trap.

When Corson could have reached out and grabbed Wolf, the younger boy suddenly darted to the right. Since Corson hadn't been expecting that, he propelled himself a few more paces forward before trying to turn himself.

Wolf watched Corson, his hands on his hips as he panted heavily. Corson's trajectory continued towards the trap, even though he was trying to turn away from it. To Wolf's luck, Corson activated the trap right before he gained his bearing.

The snap of wires alerted Corson to its presence and he turned around slowly. Something was whishing through the air, and it caught Corson upside the head.

The older boy fell with a thump to his knees, and then fell backwards so that he was resting in an awkward position. A cannon boomed almost immediately, and Wolf surveyed his handiwork.

Terkast was impressed. The trap had worked amazingly well, and a blade was now embedded into Corson's head. The dagger was buried into its hilt, and Terkast admired Wolf's work. The younger boy had clearly outsmarted the older, and Corson had paid the price of his life.

Wolf laughed quietly to himself, still panting. He took a few steps to the right, intending to kill Arrett while the District Ten boy was weak, when he collapsed to the ground. Wolf closed his eyes for a second, and was asleep in minutes due to exhaustion.

Terkast was still happy. _Now_ there were five tributes in the arena. This was his most successful Games yet. Surely a lot of people loved them! However, now four out of his five tributes were sleeping. Terkast sighed, and put his head in his hands. He guessed that he would have to wait. He would have to wait for the tributes to awaken, and he would have to wait for his food.

**A/N: Another chapter done! I think this fic is almost completed. I still have the poll, by the way. I want to know which tributes are your favorite! Please vote? And review!**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Newest chapter is here! There's an important notice for you at the bottom, so please don't forget to look at that. Anyway, read, enjoy and review!**

He was bored. Ever so bored. And that meant that the people in the Capitol were bored too. Terkast sighed, his eyes skimming the screens once more. At first, he found the idea that nearly all of the tributes were comatose was comical. Now, after nearly three hours of rest, he was getting uneasy.

"We need to wake them up," he snapped to his fellow Gamemakers. They all jumped, which gave Terkast a slight reprieve in his bad feeling.

Baheera snorted, and Shanna raised her hand slowly. Terkast laughed inside again; what was she, a child? "Yes, Shanna?" he asked patiently.

"How do you suggest we do that, sir?" she responded, her voice meek and quiet.

Terkast shrugged. "I don't know, personally. There has to be something, right?" He turned to a small monitor in front of him and pushed random buttons. "Smelling salts!" he exclaimed suddenly, making everyone jump again.

A look of general confusion greeted Terkast, so he sighed and began to explain. "Used since… forever, actually. They release ammonia gas when activated, which usually wakes unconscious people up. There's always the chance that they might die from an overdose, but I think we should try!"

Baheera nodded, his mouth set in a firm line. A few other Gamemakers followed his lead, nodding as they appraised the situation. "Cera," Terkast announced, "smelling salts the arena where the tributes are. I think it'll work."

A loss hissing sound filled the arena as the colorless gas was released. Cree gasped, her eyes flying open as she raised her hand to her head. "What the hell?" she asked. The sun was beginning to set, but the outcropping of rock she pulled herself under saved her from its blistering rays.

She fluttered about for a few seconds in the sand, her hand quickly brushing over her body. "I'm alive?" she asked happily, feeling over her face. Cree paused for a few seconds when she felt the hole in the center of her face, and examined it a bit closer. Terkast could feel her mindset: she'd rather lose her nose than her life.

Wolf sat straight up in shock, his hand going to his chest. "Perfectly good dream," he muttered. He also patted down his clothing, pausing in interest at the bloodstains on his shirt. He glanced over at the activated trap, frowning slightly when he realized the knife was missing.

A large puddle of blood was within the wires, growing maroon and tacky with each passing second. Wolf stood up shakily and stumbled away from it, weaponless as usual.

A short distance away, Arrett was coming to his senses. He felt around in the longer grass, and sighed to himself. He was still covered in dirt and grime, but his face was entirely happy. He crowed with joy, and stood up to watch events unfold in his home District.

"I told you they'd work," Terkast said, not taking his eyes off the screen. Joss was unconscious for a few seconds longer than everyone else, making the Head Gamemaker worry. If he didn't wake up in a few more minutes, the ammonia will smother his system and Joss would die.

"Come on," Cera whispered, her finger poised above the button. "Terkast, he's going to die!" The Head Gamemaker shook his head, watching the events unfold. The Career's breathing was very quick and unlabored, but yet he still didn't open his eyes.

"Stop it where the other tributes are," Terkast ordered, standing up so he could watch the screen harder. Cera obeyed, the hissing noise diminishing greatly. "Joss will wake up, he _has _to."

Everyone's eyes, and all the cameras being shown to the Districts, were on Joss' unconscious form. With a gasp, Joss awoke coughing.

Terkast's body immediately relaxed and he sat back down in his chair. "Told you," he announced. Joss doubled over in the sand, coughing up blood. Terkast felt momentarily bad for the boy, but pushed it aside. It's not his fault his body didn't respond to a potentially deadly chemical.

"Now, we just have to wait for the tributes to begin attacking each other. It shan't take long." Terkast spun around a few times in his chair, releasing the pent up frustration that still plagued him.

Cree stood up shakily, grabbing onto the rock to hold herself steady. She grabbed her tomahawk in one hand, tossing it lightly back and forth. "Five more?" she asked herself, holding up a hand. "How long was I out?"

She looked up at the setting sun, nodding as she did the calculations in her head. "Not that long, I hope," Cree whispered. She took a step out from under the rock and stretched her arms and legs.

Cree glanced around, gauging the remainder of the arena. With a sigh, she started up a light jog towards the left. "If she continues on that course, it's dead straight for Joss," Juniper reported, moving a few levers up.

"Good," Terkast laughed. "I wanted a Career showdown with these two." Joss still sat in the sand, feeling up his broken leg.

The Head Gamemaker pushed aside his empty plates to watch, and they were quickly collected by a female Avox. The small boy who was often seen came over, a haphazardly folded note clenched tightly in his hand.

He handed it urgently to Terkast before rushing back over to the other side. The Head Gamemaker 'hrmphed' and opened the messy note. What he saw inside shocked him. "I thought people gave up on Joss," he laughed to himself. "The leg certainly isn't going to help him. But this might."

"Hulton? Hulton?" Terkast called across the board, and the younger Gamemaker looked up. "Joss is still in this fight, other than being a quick kill."

The younger Gamemaker looked around in confusion, unsure of whether or not Terkast was sane. "Four thousand dollars," Terkast announced. "A shot of adrenaline. Hopefully it'd keep him alive."

Hulton nodded vigorously, shifting through the multiple pages of gifts. Terkast had to admit, that was a very intelligent sponsor gift. Lippert had to have been saving the entire Games for this. It was a large sum, which would explain why the only District Four tribute hadn't gotten anything previously.

"Uhm, what kind do you want it in?" Hulton asked, the page filled with adrenaline pictures.

Terkast sighed, knowing there was only one true solution. "We want a quick response from the adrenaline. Cree's getting closer, make it one he can inject."

Hulton nodded, tapping the picture and sending it into the arena with a low whistle. "Let's just hope it works," Terkast whispered, watching the parachute's descent into District Four.

Joss looked up hopefully, but his face fell a little as he saw the small size. Terkast placed his hands in a steeple and rested them on the desk as he watched the events come unfolded.

It was easy to see that Cree had been training all of her life. Her jog was light, quick and efficient. Already she had crossed over the wasteland of District Five and was making her way quickly through District Eleven.

District Four was next. Cree was doing a quick sweep of each District, and Terkast hoped that she didn't overlook Joss. It would be hard to accomplish, since he was out in the open, but it could be done.

Joss received the parachute, tearing it open in eagerness. He looked confused at the small syringe, for his mentors didn't tell him about anything like this. Adrenaline, pure adrenaline, was rarely used, and Terkast could swear it was only documented twice.

He played with the syringe for a few minutes, squeezing a few drops out and trying to garner a scent from the odorless liquid. "Cree will see him in three, two, one," Cera announced, her hands moving around the board.

Like she said, Cree's head snapped up as she viewed the sitting boy in the light sand. She went to sprint to him but thought better of it. "Good girl," Terkast muttered, remembering the time she had last vaulted herself into a fight.

Cree inched around to the left, her eyes sharp as she tried to discern what way was safest for her. She noticed he was facing forward, and began to walk towards the waterline. The waves hid the sound of her footsteps while the rolling dunes kept her hidden if she crouched.

Terkast frowned. It was good that she was beginning to realize that running straight into a fight was comparable to death. However, if she caught Joss by surprise, it would take away the epic Career showdown he had planned in his head.

The four thousand dollars looked impressive in his collection, so Terkast shrugged his shoulders. Showdown or no, whether or not Joss used the adrenaline didn't matter. Terkast got his money, and he was happy with that.

Cree crept closer, like a lioness stalking an unaware zebra. She kept her breathing light and her steps quick. Again, it was easy to see the years of training that defined her life.

Joss took the syringe and whispered a prayer before jamming the thin needle into his leg. He gasped as he pushed down the plunger and the liquid was released into his injured leg. Cree watched in confusion at the sight, and her lips curled back as she viewed the parachute in the sand.

She watched warily as Joss started breathing heavier, confused as to what was exactly in the parachute. He tossed aside the used syringe, and tried getting to his feet.

Cree saw his moment of weakness and took a step forward, brandishing her tomahawk high. Joss caught a glimpse of the predator, and exclaimed loudly as he fell to the ground. "No!" he shouted, trying to pull himself backwards.

"Shame," Cree whispered, moving in while swinging her tomahawk. She spied the pools of blood, raising her eyebrows at the obvious signs of a struggle. She gave a war cry as she raised her tomahawk high, but screamed with Joss as he swung his foot around.

His broken leg connected with her whole ones, causing her to plummet to the ground. The weapon skittered out of her hands as she hit the ground harshly. Joss moaned loudly, clutching his leg as he writhed about in the sand.

Cree reached up and punched Joss, her fist glancing off his skull. Joss let loose another scream, grasping his head in agony. He opened his eyes and Terkast could see the left one was staring into the distance, completely off from the other one.

He reached forward and grasped for Cree, leaving deep furrows in her skin with his nails. He leant forward and hit her chest, making her scream. The fight of cripples was exciting to watch, in the least.

Cree battered around Joss' head, making his crooked eye jiggle a little in his socket. The sight was sickening, and Terkast couldn't imagine what it must feel like. Joss moaned, but returned a few quick punches to Cree's sides and arms. The adrenaline was working well, and surmounted to a large amount with his body's adrenaline.

He leant forward and thrust his arm out, connecting with Cree's forehead. Joss' fingers seemed to be misplaced, but he didn't feel it in the heat of the battle. He landed another punch in the center of her forehead, and Terkast could see that Cree was beginning to tire of this game.

She swiftly raised her foot in an act of superhuman flexibility and kicked Joss square in the face. He screamed as her foot connected, and he fell back into the sand.

Cree scrambled to her feet, using the few seconds she had bought wisely. She eyes flashed across the sand, looking desperately for her weapon. She smiled as she found it, and quickly scooped it up into her hands.

Joss was beginning to overcome his brief desperation, and was trying to stand up. "Not today," Cree snarled, bringing her tomahawk down fiercely.

Terkast winced as the weapon pierced the District Four boy's flesh, embedding itself deep into his neck. The blade was stuck deep within Joss' neck area, and he was gasping like a fish out of water. All signs of struggle left his body, and Terkast reckoned that she had severed his spinal cord.

Cree planted her foot on Joss' shoulder and wrenched at the tomahawk lodged deep in the District Four tribute. On the third try she finally broke it free, and she stared down at Joss as he bled out. She smiled angrily as he died, and spat at him.

She didn't leave, watching dutifully until his cannon finally rang out. "Three more!" she called to the sky, holding up her hand with three fingers up.

Terkast nodded, satisfied on how the cards played themselves. That was exactly the Career showdown he was looking for, though it could have been longer. The Capitol citizens must be happy with it, also.

Cree sat down in the sand for a few minutes, watching as the hovercraft appeared and plucked out Joss' body. Blood dripped down to the sand, marking District Four as one of the bloodiest in the arena.

She got up again, stretching her arms as she did so. She felt around her body, pausing as she felt the places Joss bludgeoned her. They were surely to be bad bruises later.

Terkast sat back in his chair. Four tributes left. This was turning out surprisingly well, and he suspected the Games would be over within a day or two. It would keep the Capitol happy and allow him to retire in peace.

Cree began moving again, to rescan to Districts and hopefully find some more tributes to dispatch herself. She was close to victory and only had three kills to make before she was crowned and taken home. Terkast could imagine her younger sister's face when Cree came back alive.

What was her name…? Yukina? No, Yakama. It would be sweet to have her smiling face plastered all over the Districts. However, Cree would have gathered quite a lot of hate from the people of the District. Other than the mutts and voting, she killed off the majority of the tributes. Her Victory Tour wouldn't be pleasant at all.

Four tributes left. Cree was trying to rustle up some more prey, but the others weren't as active. Arrett was walking wistfully through District Ten, almost on the edge. His bow was clenched tightly in his hands, an arrow nocked in ready. He stepped into District Seven, watching warily as the trees waved their branches angrily at him.

"Jahall," Terkast muttered. The Mutt Designer looked at him, prompting him to continue. "If he gets close enough, set them on him. We want more fights, and he's nowhere near the other tributes."

She nodded, turning back to the screen. Terkast did also, yawning as he did so. He felt around for his goblet, smiling when he felt its cold metal. He took a large swig, hoping the effects would take affect soon.

Wolf was sitting alone in District Twelve, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon. Terkast frowned. "Clouds. Heavy on the horizon. Threaten rain," he demanded rapid fire.

Cera nodded, her fingers moving fast as she manipulated the weather within the arena. The beautiful sunset was quickly eaten by clouds, making the arena much darker than it should have been.

Wolf frowned, standing up and dusting his pants off. He glanced around for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. Terkast wanted to push him somewhere, for standing there was doing nothing. There were only four tributes left, so he would have to move to make kills. The Games would end without some participation on his point.

He yawned, stretching his arms over his head. With a reckless step to the left, Wolf began his journey out of District Ten. He made so much noise that Terkast was skeptical that the other tributes couldn't hear his flight.

"Wrong direction," Terkast muttered to himself. If he was to have a victor within two days, he would have to take matters into his own hands and direct the tributes to their fights.

"Jahall," he spoke up, "Herd Wolf towards Cree. Use Sleipnir and the horses. He has no clue what they are, so they'll spook him into the right direction."

Jahall nodded, moving icons around on her screen until it was centered on the horses. "Come on, Sleipnir, you beautiful eight-legged beast," she whispered, pressing a few buttons.

A whinny was heard on the steadily growing wind, making Wolf turn around in fear. The ground rumbled beneath him, the hooves sounding like thunder as they approached. Wolf turned around on the spot, gasping when he saw the horses galloping towards him.

He screamed, much like he was expected, and bolted away from the angry beasts. His lack of physical activity previously caught up to Wolf, and he was soon panting. Although the mutts had started out very far away from the panicking tribute, they were easily closing the gap.

"No, no, no," he screeched, willing his legs to go faster. Sleipnir rose on his hind legs, waving the other six in the air. The mutt was designed to kill any males that dared step into his realm, and Wolf was no exception.

District One was just a few paces away, and Wolf sprinted towards them. What the younger boy didn't know was that the horses, though programmed to brutally murder any male, wouldn't hurt him. The President would have Terkast's head if any mutts killed the tributes this late in the Games. Sleipnir and his herd was just a tool to get Wolf closer to Cree.

Wolf dove for the boundary line, landing in hard, crushed black gravel. His palms came up bloody, but Wolf was safe. Sleipnir thrust his head down to Wolf's eyelevel and snorted angrily. The boy shuddered involuntarily, but he was no longer in any perceived harm.

Wolf sniveled quietly as Sleipnir whinnied to the other horses, prancing on the line he wasn't able cross. The boy probably thought that the horses were mutts. Well, they were. Sleipnir especially. But he probably thought the species in general was a muttation.

Terkast laughed to himself about the thoughts that were chasing themselves around in his mind. He dearly hoped that the Games would end soon. He couldn't deal with another day that didn't hold the prospect of sleep. Too much was balanced on his shoulders, and he couldn't leave.

A cannon boomed, making Terkast snap his head to the screens. "Who just died?" he nearly screamed, upset that he missed such a vital death in the Games.

"Tristan, sir," Hulton answered, pointing to the boy's screens. They flickered for a second before divvying themselves up between the last three tributes.

"How? How did he die?" The cameras were focused on Cree and Wolf, both of which he had been watching carefully. Which meant that either Tristan killed himself or Arrett killed him.

Juniper pointed to Arrett's screens. "The District Ten boy. He found Tristan a while ago and had been aiming. It was actually a beautiful shot. Right through the eye."

Terkast watched as Arrett walked over to Tristan's corpse, examining the wound. The District Nine boy died instantly, without much pain. The twelve year old crouched down, and tugged the bloody arrow out of Tristan's plain face. He wiped a few strands of brown hair off the shaft before tucking it securely back into its quiver.

"So… he _can_ use that weapon," Terkast muttered, still in awe over the kill. That left three tributes left in his deadly game. He hadn't given much thought to the young boy, for he always thought the boy to be useless and still alive only by avoiding other tributes.

Cree looked up at the sound of the cannon, a smile blossoming on her face. "Two more!" she announced, positively beaming.

Terkast nodded along with her. He would have to usher Arrett near Cree and Wolf. There were only three more tributes, and two were on a collision course. He would love to see who would come out alive. He had a growing suspicion who would, though.

There were two twelve year olds and an eighteen year old. Complete opposites on the Hunger Games age spectrum, which would provide an interesting twist.

"More food," he announced to the room. An Avox stepped forward, bowing her head graciously. "Anything, really. I just need something to calm my nerves."

It happened time after time. Food quelled his nerves, making the sleep deprivation a little easier to manage. This late in the Games, anything could happen. He needed something to look forward to, and the food fulfilled that promise.

"Two more deaths," he called out. His excitement was growing, and Terkast felt like he could run a mile. Everyone would enjoy the ending. Everyone.

**A/N: And, we're almost at the end! Did you guys like this chapter? Tell me in reviews! I have two requests. One: please vote on the poll! We have a ten way tie, and that isn't very helpful. Two: please tell me if I should/should not have a semi-sequel to this story. But this time, it'd be a SYOT. Ok? Thank you!**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Yay for updates! Read, enjoy and review!**

Terkast tapped his long fingers delicately on the metal surface. The 24 screens were focused just on the three remaining tributes, though they each had a different shot.

The tension in the room was palpable, and Terkast's heart was pounding. This was the part of the Games he loved the most. Sure, the Interviews were nice, but there was nothing better than the Final Three. Something about the tributes being so close to victory, but also close enough to kiss death like the 21 previous made his heart squirm.

His flask sat on the desk in front of him, completely empty. The Games wouldn't last that lost, especially since there were only three left.

Wolf was on his hands and knees, scouring the ground for something. Terkast cocked his head, wondering if the young boy had dropped something. Or if he knew that Asher built traps.

Cree was close to him, looking for any signs of other tributes. She was a clever girl, Terkast knew. She knew there was a reason the Gamemakers brought her there.

"The dogs," Terkast barked. Jahall jumped from a short doze, and then calmly spoke into her headset. Inside the slightly ravaged Training Area, shapes began to move.

Since there were two tributes, the pack split up again, racing in different directions. They barked jovially, happy for more prey to chase off and torture.

Wolf greeted the animals warily, his eyes trying to hold all of them in his sight at once. He watched them as he backed up against an arrow target. When they didn't move, Wolf began to speak. "You don't seem that bad," he said, his voice still cautious.

Sayuh smiled, flashing her canines. Her blue eyes glinted dangerously as she intimidated the boy. "Hello, Wolf," she responded. The District Six male's mouth dropped on in shock as he swiveled his head to look at the Alpha Female.

"You've done well so far," she continued, her tail beginning to wag. "There's only here tributes left… but I think you know that."

Wolf nodded, dumbstruck. "One of them… the one with the training… is… _here_," Wolf moaned, pulling at his hair. "She can't be, she can't," he whispered. His eyes darted to each pack member, but finally settled on Sayuh. "I know what they want."

Sayuh cocked her head, her eyes hardening as she scrutinized Wolf. He continued, close to tears. "I'm not done yet," he whimpered.

The Alpha Female dropped into a playing position, wiggling her haunches. "We can take you to her."

Wolf's eyes widened his hand flying to his heart. "I haven't finished… I really can't," he debated.

Sayuh growled, lifting her lips to show off her impressive canines once more. "We _will_ show you the way. No objections." The boy scrambled to his feet, looking around for any type of weapon. Finding none, Wolf dropped his head.

"Fine," he whispered. "It's what they want, anyway."

Meanwhile, Trunks led his pack to Cree. The girl responded calmer to the dogs, but her eyes were still wary. "I didn't realize they'd put the strays from my District into the arena," she announced to everyone. "Good job with that!"

Cree jabbed a thumb into the air, making Terkast scowl. Her sarcasm was not much appreciated. He could kill her now if he so desired.

Trunks approached her, a vicious smile on his lips. The dogs around him began to whisper insults, causing Cree to falter a little. "And they can talk?" she added, her depleted confidence quickly regrowing.

She took a step forward, her hands tightly by her side. "There's a tribute here," trunks baited, waiting for any type of reaction.

Cree paused, her face completely devoid of any emotion. In a split second, she swung her tomahawk angrily while screeching 'I know!' The Alpha Male sprung out of the way, avoiding any harm. However, one of the lesser pack members caught the full blow and fell to the ground with a gash in her neck.

"My baby," Jahall whispered. The Mutt Designer's knuckles turned white from gripping the edge of the desk so hard. "Let me kill her," she snarled, turning around to face Terkast angrily. "She almost killed him, my baby!"

The Head Gamemaker firmly shook his head. "She _didn't_ kill him. Just a random mutt."

Jahall bared her teeth angrily, turning to watch the screens. If looks could kill, Cree would have been brutally tortured and murdered on the spot.

The dogs, suspiciously eyeing the bloody corpse before them, stayed far from Cree's reach. They began to speak, making Cree's eyes go wide.

"You're not alone," a dark brown female growled. Cree stepped forward, intrigued, but it caused the dogs to skitter back.

"What do you mean? Why can you talk? What are you trying to tell me?" Cree screeched at the dogs, making them flinch away from her.

Wary of her tomahawk, Trunks stepped forward with a lopsided grin. His tongue lolled out, giving him a slightly comical look. "There are only three left," he barked. "Will you live?" He looked quickly behind Cree's back at the approaching other half of the pack. "We'll see."

The dogs backed off, leaving Cree spinning in circles. "What?" she questioned them, desperate for more information. She stopped as she spied Wolf standing alone, the rising sun at his back.

A shark's smile grew on Cree's face as she gripped the handle of her tomahawk tighter. "Two more," she whispered, starting into a low-intensity jog.

Wolf stood stock-still, his knees knocking together. It was do or die, now. The dogs would force him forward if he tried to retreat. The boy took a step in Cree's direction, trying to take a deep breath. He was weaponless and sure to die.

Terkast's eyes darted between the jogging Cree and still Wolf. He looked quickly at Arrett, who was motionless with an arrow nocked. The Head Gamemaker did a double take, taking in the boy's surroundings. He was at the brink of District One and Three, ready to fire at the pair.

"He is really that close to killing them?" Terkast breathed, scrutinizing the boy. He could easily end it all by letting go of the string. So simple.

Cree and Wolf were within arm's reach of each other. Cree raised her tomahawk, her face confident of an easy kill.

A knee-jerk reaction, it seemed. Wolf ducked between her deadly blow, slipping between the Career's legs and beginning to run. Cree seemed bewildered for a second, before her eyes gained a devilish glint.

The District Six male sped away from Cree, zigzagging as a rabbit would. The huntress chased after him, intent on receiving her easy kill.

A small glint of silver caught Terkast's eye as Cree stepped angrily near it, but he passed it off as if it was nothing. The chase was too interesting.

Both tributes were filled to the brim with adrenaline as they played the deadly game of cat and mouse. Wolf still zigzagged like a frightened animals, and Cree had a quick, calculating look in her eyes.

Arrett shuffled in excitement as the two drew closer to him. He pulled the string taut and took a deep breath as he readied his release.

However, Wolf wasn't intent on anything but escaping. He doubled back, causing Cree to skid past him for a few steps. Wolf sprinted away from her, easily gaining distance between his predator.

Terkast leaned forward, absolutely loving the tension. He could guarantee everyone else was in the same exact position. The Head Gamemaker saw the glint of silver again, but this time it was closer to Wolf.

The District Six boy gave a shout of surprise as the glint of silver wrapped itself around his ankles and wrists. The wire, as Terkast now recognized it, dragged Wolf's body over to a few targets. He was strung out between the four targets, completely defenseless.

Terkast smiled. The silver – the wire – was a trap that Asher carefully constructed before his untimely death. The Head Gamemaker sat back, wondering what Cree would do with Wolf – especially since the boy was trussed up like a turkey.

Cree carefully watched Wolf struggle for a second. When she decided it was safe and he posed no harm, she walked forward with her mouth in a tight line.

"Shouldn't've ran," Cree snarled. Wolf struggled, crying out in pain as the wires cut into his skin. "You die anyway. They _want_ me to win."

Immediately after her words, Cree brought up her weapon and cleaved off Wolf's left arm. He screamed desperately, tears instantly springing to his eyes. The wires cut deeper into the three remaining appendages since he was missing a support.

Wolf began to plead with Cree, but she was deaf to his bargains. With two rough swings, Wolf's right leg was chopped off. He was now only held by two very tight strings on opposite sides of his body.

She hewed off both remaining appendages in quick succession, leaving Wolf as a bloody stump. "Please," he blubbered, a mixture of blood and spittle flying from his mouth.

Cree nodded seriously, and then split his head in two. The remainder of Wolf jerked violently as the tomahawk met its mark and a cannon boomed his demise. Cree made a face as she pulled the weapon out of his skull and witnessed the brain tissue. With a small portion of her clothing she wiped it off, disgust still painted on her face.

Terkast stood up, stretching his body as he did so. "Keep them apart," he ordered merrily. "I'm going to the press conference."

Jahall nodded, sending her dogs in to chase Arrett. The younger boy ran away in fear, leaving District One completely. Convinced they were safely apart, Terkast left the room. As he approached the door, he motioned for Maylin, who energetically joined him.

"We're going to a conference," Terkast explained. "It always happens where there are only two tributes left. Shows how they're thinking the Games are going. Asking how I think it went," he said. "Who I think'll win," he added quietly.

They walked calmly down the hallway, enjoying the silence for once. The elevator was the loudest thing in the hallway as it clattered to their floor.

Terkast stepped on it with confidence, Maylin following quietly. He swayed in the elevator as it rocketed down to the ground floor. A simple rock tune was playing over and over in his head, only because Terkast knew a small portion of it.

The elevator dinger on the ground floor and Terkast briskly stepped out. Maylin blinked her eyes slowly, expecting a wave of people to rush the open doors. It really surprised her when nobody came. All the press conferences she saw on the screens lied to her.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Gamemaker," a pretty secretary welcomed. Terkast nodded solemnly as he passed by. "Third door on the left!" she called, but the Head Gamemaker was already walking towards it without any instruction.

Terkast turned to Maylin, making sure she was still there. "When we walk in," he cautioned, "cover your ears. The reporters'll make a lot of noise."

Maylin nodded and clamped her hands over her ears as Terkast opened the door. Everyone inside immediately stood up and pushed toward Terkast as they waved their microphones.

Guards separated the people so that Terkast and Maylin could reach the front podium. Here, Maylin saw more oddities than she ever saw before. There was a leopard-tattooed woman that looked like a cat, a dark-skinned man dressed in all black wearing an eye patch and a man dressed in all red and white with his skin dyed blue. Still, that was not the extent of the Capitolite's odd fashion.

Terkast tapped the microphone, making silence fall on the large room. "Welcome the 725th press conference," Terkast began, opening his arms to the large crowd.

Immediately the clamor began again, and Terkast pointed to a large blonde man garbed all in red. "Who do you think is going to win?" he called out.

Terkast smiled delicately, but the smile widened with each passing second. "Now, now. I can't disclose any secrets, can I? Any others?"

Hands shot into the air, waving frantically in an effort to be seen. The Head Gamemaker's pure white fingers pointed out a ginger woman clad entirely in leather. "There Games are going very well," she stated, wheedling her way onto Terkast's good side. "How did you react when President Welch pulled out the Quarter Quell slip, and how did it feel to set the mutts on a tribute every night?"

Terkast faltered for a second, his smile fading. However, it was soon back on his face – more confident than before. "There were a lot of good ones in there. I was partial to the one that only allowed couples to be Reaped for the Games. This one worked out well, though," Terkast lied through his teeth.

"Your feelings on setting the mutts free?" the woman prodded further, but her expression said that she had all she wanted.

Terkast looked confused. "My feelings? They were normal for having a tribute's death. A bit happy since it got the President off my back." He ended with a large smile, making the rest of the crowd laugh merrily.

The Head Gamemaker pointed to a woman covered in camouflage tattoos. "What did you think of this year's tributes?" Murmurs ran through the crowd, no doubt discussing their favorite tribute.

"They fit in very well with this year's Quell," Terkast answered. "Lots of fighting spirit, though I think there were too many trap builders."

The crowd nodded, quietly talking amongst themselves. "Who's your favorite? Someone questioned from the back of the throng, making heads turn.

"I'm a Gamemaker," Terkast laughed. "I'm not supposed to have favorites!" A few people booed jokingly, but Terkast ushered for them to be quiet. "I'll tell you a secret, though." The entire mass leaned in, anxiously awaiting Terkast's answer. He snorted quietly to himself; this was quite comical. "My favorite is already dead."

A few gasps hit the dead-quiet room. Terkast nodded solemnly, watching as hands once again shot into the air. The Head Gamemaker pointed to a man covered in dark brown feathers with golden eyes. "How is this Games compared to your others, especially since you're leaving this year? Will be happy with this Games as your last?"

Terkast smiled; he'd been expecting this answer. "I am completely pleased with these Games. I think they worked out extremely well, and people'd be talking about them for _years._"

Murmurs once again ran rampant through the crowd. The topic of discussion was now settling on his departure. The next man to speak was very short, with two antlers proudly mounted on his head. "What are you going to do after the Games is over?"

Terkast furrowed his brow. "I'm unsure," he admitted," what I'm going to do." It was a completely honest answer. He had given much thought into what he would do, but they were all jokes. Nothing… definite.

"Who's going to take over next year?" A girl shouted from the back. This prompted everyone to start talking loudly, but Terkast stood waiting for them to finish.

"I don't know," Terkast answered when the clamor died down. This statement, however, was a lie. He knew exactly who would take over, and she'd do great. The only thing he worried about was the new person who'd become a Gamemaker

"How'd you choose the arena?" a dark red lady clad in a pure white dress asked.

"Simple enough. It hadn't been done with all the Districts laid out like on a clock face. That, and I think it's always a treat to see the shock on a tribute's face when they run into their own District." He smiled at the people as they laughed loudly. Every Capitolite loved the guilty pleasure associated with the Hunger Games.

There was a few seconds of frantic scribbling before the entire room went quiet. A Peacemaker stepped forward with his hands raised, addressing the mob. "That's all, that's all," he called. "Thank you, Head Gamemaker. Now onto our Head Muttation Designer, Jahall Faerbilt!"

A thunderous amount of applause followed Terkast as he stepped backstage. Maylin followed meekly, her face looking extremely relieved.

"My last Interview," Terkast said, rather deflated. He sighed, shuffled a few feet, and then stopped. "I know what'll make it better! Ice Cream!" He nearly sprinted to the elevator, Maylin following him.

Terkast jabbed the button a few times, tapping his foot impatiently as the elevator immediately arrived. "What flavor do you want?" he asked excitedly before realizing his mistakes. "Vanilla. Vanilla is the best."

"Hurley!" Terkast called in a sing-song voice as he stepped off the elevator and skipped down the hallway. "Ice Cream, please! It always makes things better!"

The cook chuckled heartily as he turned to the freezer. "You did well," he said as he prepared the frozen treats. "Jahall's on screen now."

Like Hurley said, the Mutt Designer was effortlessly doing her interview on the tiny kitchen screen. "Yes, it is true that my specially-bred guard dogs are in the arena," she explained. "I didn't know of any mutt that could do a better job." She paused, painting on a large smile. "I can't wait for the Games to be over, though. Their puppies are getting lonesome."

Terkast smiled at the comment, and it got even larger as he received the vanilla cone. "I needed something to cheer me up. It was my last Interview."

Hurley nodded sagely. "It is a depressing thought. GO take your ice cream somewhere else; you're dripping. And I need to cook a large meal for the President, so scram."

Terkast shrugged as he licked the frozen dairy, jovially striding out of the kitchen. Maylin stared dolefully at him, looking quite pitiful as the ice cream melted and dripped down her hand.

The Head Gamemaker frowned. "Here, just… kinda… bite it," he ordered, demonstrating the concept with himself. Maylin obeyed, smiling as she swallowed her first bite. He giggle a bit as she grasped her head, but calmed down and told her to stick her thumb against the roof of her mouth.

The paid continued down the hallway, intent on reaching the elevator. In an hour, the Games would recommence. A plot was already forming in his head, engulfing all other ideas in flame until they were incinerated. The final plot was the only thought in his head, and Terkast smiled in anticipation.

**A/N: Next chapter you'll find out the winner of the 725****th**** Hunger Games! Are you excited? On a completely different note, I recently saw the Avengers, and I've fallen in love. That's part of the reason why I haven't updated – my obsession. Otherwise, I've had school, softball (and my **** of a coach), a history essay **_**and**_** a Hamlet project. But I still love you guys. Please review!**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: This is it, faithful readers. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It gets very tense and interesting! Read, enjoy and review!**

Only two tributes left. The Final Two. The battle loomed in both tributes' eyes, for only half of them would make it out alive. Although their chance of survival had increased tremendously, they were still constantly seconds from death.

Terkast thought over the Games as he made his way back to the Control Room. It was a very vicious Games, but would the theme of the post-Games be?

He opened the door quietly, peeking in before fully walking in. Jahall was at her station and grinned at the approaching Gamemaker. "I rushed back to the Control Room because I thought you'd start without me!"

Terkast didn't respond, and gave her a sly smile as he sat. Cree was still in District One, glaring at the dogs as she slowly twirled her tomahawk. It was easy to see that she was bored and anxious for the final battle. Arrett was on the sand of District Four, calmly counting out his remaining arrows. There were a few small, broken heads and only one whole arrow left.

"Time for my master plan," Terkast sniggered, causing all of the Gamemakers to look at him with interest in their eyes. They had heard snippets of his master plan and were eager to see it come to fruition.

Terkast motioned for an Avox on the side of the room and whispered in his ear. The older man nodded gravely, and slowly walked out of the room. Terkast sat back in his chair, watching the screens with idle interest. He should have chosen a younger messenger, but the older man allowed the interest to stew and grow.

About five minutes later, a small group of four engineers walked quietly in after the man and Terkast waved them over. They seemed in awe to be within the presence of the famous, pure white Head Gamemaker. He offered them a scroll and the leader read it with his eyes averted.

"Mafdet told us we'd be doing something like that," he said. He made a few hand gestures to his workers and they began working. Terkast pushed his chair away from the desk so they could scurry underneath.

There were a few audible snaps and twangs as wires were ripped from their previous holdings and attached to new ones. None of the Gamemakers were looking at the screens as they watched the engineers construct entirely new wireworks.

"Khnum," Terkast spoke lightly. The head engineer turned around, clearly startled. He pointed to himself and Terkast nodded lightly. "How is your son? I hear he's trying out for the position of Gamemaker. How long has he been in Academy?"

Khnum was silent for a few seconds, glancing over his shoulder often to make sure the job was getting done well. He pushed his long black hair out of his dark brown skin. "He's doing well. He's been in Academy for nearly ten years, much longer than the rest of the candidates. They think their chances of becoming Gamemaker are very low, so they give up."

"Much like the Hunger Games' tributes in that aspect," Terkast mused, his eyes never leaving the work. Suddenly, he smiled. "I hope to see him too, Khnum! You and Anuket raised him well!"

The head engineer colored bright red, turning away from the praise Terkast so lavishly gave out. "I think they're done, sir," he muttered. Indeed, the other workers were coming out from under the desk. One looked slightly burnt, as if he was shocked while working.

The burnt one gave Khnum a large button, which the head engineer gladly took. He fumbled with it for a second before giving it to Terkast with a sheepish smile. "When you're ready for it… just press the button."

Khnum then thanked Terkast profusely and backed out of the Control Room. Terkast smiled. Terkast knew Khnum from his son, and the man was very humble. It was somewhat a game to praise him and watch the man scramble.

Terkast stood up, the button clamped tightly in his hands. "Now, you're probably wondering what I had the engineers do." The other Gamemakers nodded, eyes glued to his person. "Watch!"

As Terkast pressed the button, he felt a chill go down his spine. The final battle was beginning the second he depressed this button. There was no going back.

The entire front of the Control Panel flipped, making Shanna and Baheera jump. The multiple rows of buttons were replaced with four large screens, each showing a different angle of the current tributes. Sheets of metal covered the levers and knobs in front of the other Gamemakers, leaving Terkast with the only workable controls.

"Gather 'round, gather 'round," Terkast called, resisting the urge to add 'children.' The other Gamemakers scraped their chairs against the hard surface of the floor, crowding around the Head Gamemaker. "There is no need for any sponsor gifts and only know what I'm doing with the controls. Don't feel bad I took away your control. Just watch in enjoyment, because I have all the control."

He pushed a silver rectangular button in column eleven and the forest that was previously razed was renewed. "We need to have every District flawless," he explained "if we are to make this showdown as glorious as possible."

The line of Gamemakers nodded as Terkast fiddled with a few knobs. He smiled deviously. They thought their own thoughts, but he needed the Districts renewed for a completely different reason.

Cree squawked in fear as the ruined dummies in District One were quickly replaced with newer, sturdier ones. She realized the showdown was looming over her head and rose restlessly. However, she was unsure of how to proceed, for her prey wasn't readily available.

Arrett watched the sand grains slide under his feet with mild interest, whistling when they arranged themselves in perfect, unrifled dunes. He also realized that the final battle was imminent, but, unlike Cree, he was better at a distance.

"Which is why the boy needs a little inspiration," Terkast said, voicing the conclusion of his train of thought out loud.

He received a few funny looks, but they quickly dissipated. The other Gamemakers were used to his odd behavior. He may be a little bit mad, but madness helped when creating the bloodiest entertainment in all of the land.

In the fourth column, Terkast pushed a light blue circular button. A gurgle began within the Arena, scaring Arrett a lot more than the moving sand did.

A large bubble blossomed to the surface faux-sea, popping and splashing water everywhere. The twelve-year-old watched wide-eyed as the sea slowly sank into the hole Terkast opened up. A large whirlpool sucked in all the water, fish and detritus, including one of the arrowheads.

"Now to dry it up," Terkast mumbled, raising a lever slowly. He shrugged then pushed it all the way up rapidly. The sun within the arena grew a large portion in size. Heat spewed forth from heaters within the foliage and heated rocks.

Steam rose from the entire arena as the heat did its jobs. Trees and grass withered within seconds, and the steam caused a low cloud of fog to obscure everyone's vision.

"What's happening?" someone cried from the other side of the Control Panel. Terkast sniggered as general confusion spread across the remaining four mentors.

Suddenly, it became quiet. "The final battle," Hugin noted. The tension was so thick Terkast swore he could cut it fairly easily with a knife and eat it. He frowned. Tension would probably upset his stomach.

A fan opened high within the extremely large done and siphoned out all of the fog. The arena was now completely devoid of all moisture, save for the tributes. Arrett licked his lips nervously, glancing around the arid, brown landscape.

"Now," Terkast announced, pointing out the largest button on the panel, "watch!" He jabbed it with extreme excitement, aware that everyone's eyes were glued to the four screens in front of them. All of the Capitolites were hopefully watching with the same intentness.

A small lick of flame appeared within the tinder-dry living trees of District Seven. They moved a little to try and avoid the destruction, but the effort was futile. For one, they couldn't move from the ground due to their roots. The other reason was because they didn't have enough water to continue to function. Terkast thought they might embrace death happily.

Within the Forest, the flame spread quickly. Smoke billowed upwards with a deadly quickness, clouding the bright sun in the sky. Terkast directed it around the edge of the arena, and it slowly ate up the outer ring of each District.

Cree's eyes grew wide as she realized what the Gamemakers were forcing upon her. She started in a jog to conserve her energy. The District One female glanced behind her often as the flames grew and multiplied. The fresh dummies were quickly incinerated, the foam inside of them letting off a rubbery scent.

Arrett gasped as he saw the flames spread quickly across the sand. He scrambled to his feet, shoving the rest of the arrowheads within his pockets and grabbing his boy. The boy also knew what Terkast was planning and decided to act quickly, lest he was burnt up.

The flames ate up everything in sight. The immense heat melted the grains of sand into one large, clear chunk of silica glass. "People will pay for that. We should cut it up and sell it on necklaces. Everyone wants a piece of this Games," Terkast announced offhand, not taking his eyes off the unfolding chaos.

He raised another lever, and the ring of flame was allowed to destroy another layer. The tributes calmly walked towards each other, though they couldn't see their rival through the thick smoke.

Terkast smiled. He would not have to wait for the tributes to find each other to fight. No, he would push them together and cause a more intense fight out of fear. They might be scared of the other tribute, but the fire was more motivational.

The dogs within District One screeched as the fire consumed their bodies. The noises sounded like human screams and Cree paled as she heard them. Jahall whimpered, and Terkast slid a roller. A small opening appeared and Trunks and Sayuh quickly darted inside. The Head Gamemaker closed it up before the other mutts could use it to their advantage.

Honestly, Terkast did feel somewhat sorry for them. A light roan female yipped in fear as she streaked passed Cree. Cree looked generally frightened as the small sparks of flame on the dog grew into an inferno and consumed the small body.

A third layer was depressed, and another ring of flame encompassed the two remaining tributes. There wasn't much left within the arena left still standing. Cree and Arrett picked up the pace. They were within a few seconds of each other, and Terkast tensed in anticipation.

The burning of the Districts before the final battle was symbolic, and Terkast hoped the District people would see that. He admired them for putting up with the Hunger Games, but resented their part in the multiple uprisings the Capitol quelled. Why would you bite the hand that feeds you?

He needed the Districts in the arena restored to their former glory so that the District people would see that. Then he would burn them all completely, showing that the Districts were helpless against the destructive power of the Capitol.

Cree screamed as the form of Arrett came through the smoke. The boy, in the second Cree had taken to scream, nocked the arrow and shot it through the murky smoke towards Cree. The girl dodged out of instinct, escaping somewhat unscathed.

With her hand clasped across the small furrow in her abdomen, Cree lumbered forward with her tomahawk in her other hand. The smoke was thick in the air, and she coughed twice.

Arrett cursed himself for missing such a close target and tried to disappear within the surrounding smoke. He was shorter than Cree, and thus he had less smoke to inhale. However, Terkast didn't want any of that. The second last ring of fire was released, causing Arrett to yelp as the flames grew quickly closer.

The two tributes were locked within a small circle of each other. Arrett watched his last whole arrow forlornly as it was quickly eaten by the flames.

Cree swung her tomahawk, only missing the boy by centimeters. He let out a war cry and jumped on her back as Cree swung around. She growled without words and swung her tomahawk over her head towards her assailant.

Arrett dipped his head, barely avoiding the blow. His grubby fingernails grabbed for purchase in Cree's clothes, but didn't find any skin to puncture. Left with no other option, Arrett dug his teeth into Cree's ear and pulled.

With a scream akin to the one Cree let out when she lost her nose, Cree lost her right ear. "You mewling quim!" she screeched, temporarily dropping her only weapon. The younger boy dropped off of her back and scrambled for the ownerless tomahawk.

Cree screamed in rage and stepped on his wandering hand as he darted for the weapon. Cree bared her teeth in glee and Arrett rolled and tried to pry his hand free.

The heat was beginning to show within the small circle. Both tributes were drenched with sweat and Cree was coughing readily now. Arrett's face was caked with soot and dirt from being pushed to the ground, and he was only slightly better than Cree.

Cree reached for her tomahawk, her teeth still bared triumphantly. Arrett took advantage of her momentary unbalance and pulled his hand from under her thick foot. She snarled angrily, finally grabbing her weapon and brandishing it in front of her face.

Arrett blanched, the blood seeping from his face. The flames were crackling menacingly behind him and Cree faced him triumphantly in the fore. He seemed to have no hope.

Cree lunged forward, feinting to the left. Arrett didn't take the feint at all, and ducked between Cree's legs. As he slid under her, Arrett kicked the girl in the legs, causing her to tumble forward. The boy rolled out of the dive, causing the arrowheads to tumble out of his pocket.

Any mourning over their loss was quickly covered up with parries. Cree attacked fiercely with her tomahawk, and she blatantly kicked most of the arrowheads into the flames. They, too, were eaten up quickly.

Seeing that he was weaponless, Arrett took to evading. Hopefully he could catch her off-balance again and push her into the hungry blaze. It was his only hope of winning, unless he went for her tomahawk.

Cree squawked in anger and swung her weapon forward, slicing through the air with deadly precision. Arrett cried out in fear as the tomahawk embedding itself within his upraised arm. He cried out in pain, as any twelve year old would be expected to do.

Tears began to run down his face as Cree tried to wrench it from his arm. Terkast winced at the familiar noise of metal scraping bone.

Arrett clenched his teeth and raised his other hand to punch Cree. She was slightly taken aback by the new assault, but she continued her efforts to release her only weapon. Arrett dug his fingernails into Cree's weathered skin, drawing deep furrows within her hand. It began bleeding freely, but with a flow much less heavier than Arrett's arm.

She screamed as his fingernails dug deeper but she was successful in her conquest. The tomahawk came free with a 'thock,' causing Arrett to scream. With a war cry she brought it down again. The boy was caught in the same place, using the same tactic to defend his vitals.

This time, he rose up and fought her for the weapon. It came away easier this time, and Arrett pushed Cree away from him. She stumbled a bit on the edge of the death-circle but regained her footing easily.

Arrett stood panting, apparently unaware of any of the goings on. Cree smiled devilishly and brought the tomahawk to eyelevel. She feigned twice, and finally threw her last weapon across the circle.

Although he seemed to be preoccupied, Arrett had been waiting for something like this. He ducked, and the tomahawk grazed his shoulder. It cut apart sinews and muscles easily, but was not delayed by his flesh. It soared into the blaze proudly, and Cree cried out as she saw her confidence quickly burn.

He gave her a small smile, and rose to his feet. Both of the tributes were sheened with sweat, their skin turning red and raw. They were nicked and bruised, and neither of them seemed able to fight anymore. However, they knew that to survive they must.

Cree pounced upon Arrett, her hands splayed wide to gouge out his eyes. Arrett anticipated it and also lunged forward. He dodged her open arms and hit Cree squarely in the chest.

Cree was thrown to the ground by the assault of weight, but quickly assumed the top position. She pinned the younger, much smaller boy with her knees upon his chest. "And this," she breathed heavily, "is where you die, youngling."

She laughed brutishly, raising her hands again. "I think I might torture you, though. It was hell going through this. I don't have an ear _or _a nose."

Arrett struggled between her knees, the fire not leaving his eyes. His fists batted Cree's legs, but she just laughed it off. A weird glint came into his eyes, and he stopped his onslaught. She nodded. "Take death easily. Greet death as an old friend," she crooned. "It's easier. Of course, I would never really know."

With a sadistic growl, Cree drew her jagged, germ-laden fingernails across Arrett's face. A large aperture was opened there, blood oozing out. She laughed, and Arrett squirmed a little to the left. He gasped, but Cree thought it was about her torture.

"We need to make you match," she laughed, drawing a similar line down the right side of his face. "See? So pretty."

Arrett growled, angrily telling off Cree. Cree, though, laughed again. "You can't do anything, quim!" she jovially exclaimed. "I have the upper hand!"

In defiance, Arrest raised his hand up, and Terkast saw a glint of dull metal. The Head Gamemaker smiled in excitement as he brought it down on Cree's leg.

She shrieked as the metal parted the muscles in her leg. They were cut cleanly from another, the blood prickling to the wound. Cree pushed herself off of Arrett, wondering where he got the only weapon left.

With a snarl Arrett leapt upon her with the one arrowhead that survived the kicks that destroyed its brethren. Cree caught his hands as he dove for her throat and the two tussled in the sand of the remaining District Four for a few seconds. Cree received many knicks from the sharp arrowhead in her hand, and she panted as the fight continued. Still, the pain was probably minute in the fight for her life.

With a large surge of superhuman strength, Cree thrust Arrett on his back again. Angered, Arrett propelled his hand towards Cree's face. On a chance shot, he actually hit her.

Cree moaned in pain and collapsed atop of Arrett. The boy scrambled from beneath her and straddled her body, fiercely stabbing it multiple times, as if he expected Cree to stand up at any moment.

However, that moment never came. A cannon boomed in the distance, but Arrett couldn't hear it over the blazing fire. He continued to drive his arrowhead into her corpse until his hand was slick with blood.

A hovercraft hovered over the scene of destruction, unsure of what to do. An order surely came through, for another appeared within moments. A ladder descended from the first and a woman grabbed Arrett by his arm. He looked up in fury, ready to stab the worker, but the current turned on and he couldn't move anymore.

The other hovercraft picked up Cree with a gleaming claw. The two hovercrafts flew off together, leaving the arena completely devoid of life.

"It's over," Terkast breathed. He was quite content with the conclusion of the Games. Not exactly what he had expected, but it worked out well. Before he got up to congratulate the rest of the team, he made sure to press the lever all the way up.

Terkast watched as the remainder of the arena burned brightly, not one speck of the original land left. Just a burning pyre. It would surely show that the Capitol could completely destroy the Districts if they wanted to. Nothing would be left if the Capitol decided to slam down its fist, not even the final battleground. It was a humiliating lesson he had to teach them. There would be no more uprisings.

**A/N: And there's the thrilling conclusion of my Games! I have to say, it was **_**very**_** fun to write! Stay tuned for some after-Games chapters. One of which has an interesting twist, if I do say so myself! I'm now going to excuse myself, because I wrote this nonstop since I got home. I need to go study the Great Gatsby. Has anyone else saw the trailer? It's amazing! Anyway, enjoy! Tell me how you think it went!**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Hello, faithful readers. Here's the second-to-last chapter of **_**Control. **_** I really hope you enjoy it! Read and review!**

Terkast woke with a jolt, his heart pounding. The last residue of his dream stuck within his brain, refusing to leave. He could still hear the mob outside of his modest District house screaming and pounding down his doors. He swore he could still smell smoke, though it was entirely in his mind.

He swung his legs from the bed, his body sore from the first sleep in a few days. "Maybe getting a District house isn't such a good idea," he muttered into the otherwise quiet room. It was completely dark, but with a press of a remote, the blinds lifted and sunlight poured in.

The bedroom was large and airy, and looked bright with the large amount of sunlight streaming in. It was barely furnished, partially because it was only a temporary residence. But all of the furniture was a pure white that matched Terkast's skin perfectly.

The light burned his eyes, but the Head Gamemaker ignored the pain for now. A quick glance at his watch told him that it was three thirty. He had slept two days straight, Terkast realized. Not as long as he had done previously, but still long.

It was hopefully enough time for the Capitol doctors to finish up fixing Arrett, so that the Final interview could commence.

Terkast stripped his clothes in one fell swoop, pressing another button on the remote as he did so. A dark suit was immediately placed on his thin body, accenting the white nicely. Terkast looked around, and plucked a pink rose from one of the many bouquets by the door. With a flourish, he dropped it in his pocket.

Feeling ready, Terkast opened the door into a light blue hallway. His was the only door on this hallway, making it harder for paparazzi to find him. The elevator door was farther down the hallway, but Terkast walked to it quickly.

He felt burdened with glorious purpose. The Final Interview was certainly tonight, for the child wasn't as damaged as some previous winners.

The elevator shot up to his floor after Terkast entered a key into the slot. He was loathe to leave the floor, because it was the last time he would ever be here. Even his personal key, which was the greatest measure of privacy, was to be taken from him.

He entered and pressed the ground floor button, his mind already racing. He would have to go to Antiqua Hall, where the Final Interview had been held for about a century. It wasn't too far away, but the throngs of people were scaring him.

The elevator dinged on the ground floor within a few seconds, and Terkast stepped out. A few secretaries greeted him, but Terkast only had eyes for the two large men waiting at the door.

"Mr. Nilgwis," the larger, dark gray one greeted, nodding his large head. The other one was lighter gray, with a red star tattooed into his forehead. "We're here to escort you the Interview," he rumbled.

Terkast nodded, and clasped his hands in front of him. "Very well, gentlemen!" he announced, stepping out of the front doors. "I know where I'm going, so just… bodyguard me."

The Head Gamemaker walked through the Capitol Streets with a brisk pace, making the men behind him struggle to keep up. A few reporters gathered up the courage to approach him, but fell back when Red Star flashed a menacing look at him.

Everyone was inside, and there weren't many people on the streets. Used to the gaudy, flashy Capitol people, Terkast was slightly unnerved by the emptiness.

The bright copper building loomed in front of him, and Terkast picked up the pace. He was almost running, fueled by excitement and slight fear. Nobody could see him, and he could use a little more time to prepare.

His hair was completely windblown when he entered the door, and a bead of sweat dripped down his otherwise perfect face. The receptionist glanced at Terkast quickly, but put her head down when she realized he was the Head Gamemaker. Thankfully, Terkast was not out of breath, because his lungs had been genetically fixed _ages_ ago.

The elevator was already open, and Terkast stepped into it without another glance. He inserted his special key (once again feeling a sense of regret) and pressed the AAA 19 button. The doors shut with a clang. Terkast waited patiently with his hands behind his back, listening to the soft sound of the elevator moving up its shaft.

A large room greeted him when the doors finally opened. It was a pristine white, filled with blow driers, baths and other prepping material.

"Terkast!" A woman screeched, bustling over to welcome him. Her pink hair was piled on top of her head in big waves, with some of it spilling down onto her shoulders. Her sharp green eyes looked out from within her mocha skin, and her teeth were bared in a large smile.

"Nyevah," Terkast greeted, taking her hand in his. The difference in their skin was startling, but he was used to it.

Nyevah lead him over to a bath, and began undressing him. "I can't believe it's your last year," she lilted, her deft fingers unbuttoning his shirt quickly. Her accent was foreign, because she hadn't been raised in the Capitol.

"I know," he murmured. She continued undressing him, chattering along like a jabberjay. When she was finished, she shoved him into a shower stall and quickly shut the door.

"You're going to look _marvelous_ dear," she sang, pushing asset of buttons in a seemingly random way. They each made beeps, but the sound was slightly muffled from the glass. A lower tone informed Terkast that water was coming, and he instinctively closed his eyes.

Lemon-scented water poured over his body, immediately covering any other odor. Sponges appeared within machine hands and soaped him down quickly, removing any trace of dirt and grime he had accrued from watching the games. With a squirt, a large amount of shampoo plopped into his hair, and other machines began to rub it into his scalp.

The arms stopped moving, leaving the lemony water alone. Within a few seconds he was completely clean and the entire shower turned off. Large gusts of air dried him immediately, and the doors opened automatically.

With a laugh, Terkast realized that Nyevah hadn't started talking once. "My family in Constantinople," she explained, "they like my job over here. They say it's a very far hike, especially since I have to cross the ocean, but I like using my skills for something!"

Nyevah's arms were draped with piles off eccentric clothes, and her eyes looked hungrily into his. "I think we're going with a darker color this year, to draw attention to you. It's your last year, and we want people to know that!"

She threw some underclothes at him, and he put them on. Even they were made of silk and a rich ruby color. "Purple!" she exclaimed, her face screwed up in ultimate joy. "Purple means majestic and royalty and you fit that role!"

Without waiting for Terkast's consent, Nyevah shoved a lilac shirt into his arms, followed by a pair of white pants. He put them on quickly, afraid what Nyevah would do if he didn't. He looked towards her for more clothes, and was unnerved that she wasn't there.

Something touched his back, making Terkast freeze. It was only after he realized that it was Nyevah that he relaxed. She was trying to shoulder a deep purple jacket onto his body, but couldn't reach. Terkast chuckled to himself, and put on the jacket by himself.

"Now you're ready!" she squeaked, looking into Terkast's eyes. "The purple does well on your skin, and a lot of attention will be on you! Perfect for your last Interview!"

Terkast thanked Nyevah sincerely before turning around and strutting back to the open elevator. As the doors shut, he waggled his fingers goodbye to her.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the upcoming interviews. Even though he wouldn't be saying anything himself, people would be watching him and he had to look like _royalty_.

Finally, the doors opened on the floor he wanted. A large balcony with a few chairs waited for him, and Terkast noticed that most of the floor below was already filled. Soothing music was playing from speakers all around the theater, and Terkast relaxed into one of the chairs.

The President came out of the elevator a few minutes later, his dark silver hair gleaming in the low light. "Brilliant Games you pulled off this year!" he proclaimed, sitting in the throne-like chair that dominated the balcony. "Voting was brilliant, and I absolutely _loved_ the Final Two Battle."

President Welch nodded, his eyes focused on the dimly lit stage in front of them. The balcony was an excellent view, and it was one of the things Terkast would miss greatly. The doors opened again, and three Avoxes entered. Terkast felt a great weight lift off his shoulders as he recognized Maylin as one of them.

She quietly stood behind him, but Terkast pointed to the chair adjacent to him. She accepted it after a brief pause, because nobody else was supposed to come up here. The two Avoxes that belonged to the President also sat, filling the remainder of the chairs.

"I'd like to see the theme of this year's Final Interview," the President mused, scratching his chin in thought. His skin was a pale peach color, and his eyes a muddy brown. Like his voice, he refused to get any changes done to his demeanor.

"Me too, sir," Terkast said, his voice quiet. "I think that –" Fanfare erupted from the speakers, interrupting both Terkast and the relaxing music. The lights above them dimmed even more, until they were completely out.

A spotlight lightened the stage, where Thorfinn appeared in a thick cloud of smoke. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 725th Hunger Games' Final Interview!"

Cheers came from every single Capitolite on the floor and from everywhere else in the Capitol. "I think you're all excited to meet your victor! Welcome, Arrett Hayes!"

Screams of appreciation, cheers and clapping filled the entire theater. The young boy had his lips tightly pursed as he sat in the lavishly adorned chair, much different from the metal chair he sat in during the first Interview.

Arrett looked around him, his face set in fierce determination. However, Terkast gleaned that he was nervous by closely studying the boy's body posture and his eyes. The Head Gamemaker doubted that anyone else could discern that.

"Let's begin with the video, shall we?" Thorfinn asked, the spotlight dimming. A large screen descended from the ceiling, the words 'The 725th Hunger Games' written on it in an eccentric script font.

A quiet, mournful song played from the speakers as the words were replaced with video clips. Small clips from each Reaping were shown. However, there was specific attention drawn on the Careers, the pair from District Seven, the brutes from Districts Eleven and Twelve respectively, and Arrett of course.

Just from looking at the screen, Terkast could tell the boy had changed during the time passed. There was no longer an innocent look to him. The child had become a coldblooded killer.

The pre-Games material went quickly, only really highlighting Arrett and the aforementioned tributes. It became obvious what the angle was: the Underdog.

Certain interviews went up, and Terkast shuddered as he remembered them. Cree had been so vicious, as if she would personally kill everyone in the room. A small smile crossed his lips as Terkast remembered the one lady that Cree had personally called out. For wearing a piece of jewelry, he thought.

The haughty Tamara was shown on screen, telling everyone why she would win. It hadn't worked out well. Floyd threateningly told the crowd he volunteered for glory. There would be no glory for Floyd Barabe, and his name would shortly be forgotten.

Caddis and Joss had both expressed their desire to win. Sadly, Caddis did not achieve the status her brother, Strip, had gained. Joss wouldn't be going home to his family, either. Terkast heard that the mother gave birth a few days ago. Healthy baby boy.

Unlike during the Games, Harley was weak and small. She even burst out in tears. It was a clever ruse, often used by female tributes, but failed to win Harley anything. On the other hand, it did work better than Gyton's over-the-top confidence in himself.

Arrett's Interview played over the screen, and the entire crowd went still. Terkast detected only a smattering of recorded applause, showing how little faith the Capitol people had in him. The boy was very snarky, trying to prove he had it in him to win, but the people weren't too impressed. The buzzer rang early, and Terkast remembered the slight rebellion he had feared then.

Indas' and Sheave's Interviews were short, as they hadn't done anything that interesting. Terkast closed his eyes and braced himself for the following video clips. He had lived through the Games once, but he was going to relive them. And it was his last Games.

The tributes rose up in the arena, looking rather confused at their enemy-less surroundings. An aerial view succeeded that, and Terkast's mouth dropped open in appreciation. It was certainly an amazing arena, and the dots of tributes made it much more interesting.

The gong went off, and the tributes immediately walked off their plates. It showed some Careers immediately bounding off to find prey, and Tristan running away from his starting point.

Arrett was shown looking through his given pack, pulling out supplies with glee. He packed everything up and moved towards the trees in District Eleven.

Abruptly, the camera angle switched to Tristan's brutal murder of Kacey. He choked the life out of her, and took her pack afterwards. Twenty three tributes were left in the arena.

On the other side of the stadium, Floyd confronted Brenda. He taunted her and shot her pointblank with arrows, drawing a lot of blood. The ground was splattered with it, and so was Floyd's face. He didn't seem to mind. With an arrow to the skull, Brenda finally left this life. Her final moments had been filled with pain, fear, and blood. Twenty two tributes were left.

With the only two deaths that had happened the first two days played out, the screen focused on the tributes. Harley fought bravely through the trees, showing her strength and courage. She briefly met with Gyton, who saved her life, but had no chance to kill him.

The anthem played, and the first Voting commenced. The video flashed through each tribute quickly, highlighting who they chose. It showed that Arrett was not voted for at all, and he was not threatening to his fellow tributes. Arrett voted Cree that night, knowing that she was a strong contender.

Floyd backed away from the mutts that bombarded him, screaming in pain as they ripped his body apart. Not only was it physical pain, but psychological pain, too. He had 'killed' one of the mutts that was now killing him. The strong, District Two boy was reduced to a pile of gore. Twenty one tributes still lived.

On screen, Arrett darted in and stole Floyd's misused bow and arrows. It would serve him well later in the Games. The boy returned to his perch in District Eleven, waiting out the sweltering heat.

Immediately, the video switched to Tamara's brutal murder after the voting. She had put up a valiant run, but in the end it was fruitless. She ended up exactly like her former District partner. Twenty tributes remained.

Harley received her _sturdy_ axe on screen, and cleaved trees in half with it. Terkast snorted, remembering Jahall's reaction to that. Shortly after, she killed Gyton. The top dogs of the arena were falling quickly, leaving the underdogs – like Arrett – to flourish in the arena. Nineteen tributes still breathed.

A quick video clip showed of Arrett loosing one of his arrows into Cree's calf. It wasn't blatantly said, but Terkast knew everyone was thinking about the later battle.

A small amount of time passed, and Cree was on the hunt again. She chased after Vesture, the Victor's grandson, and ran him into his own trap. Defenseless and missing a foot, the boy was no match for her brute strength. Cree had her first kill, leaving eighteen tributes.

Terkast felt Maylin stiffen in the chair next to him, and wondered what had happened. A feral smile sat delicately on her face, and Terkast realized that Vesture's was the only death she hadn't seen.

In vengeance for her brutal murder of Gyton, Harley was voted off next. She put up a valiant fight, killing a mutt before they all dog piled on her. Seventeen tributes remained.

Quickly, the video showed Frankie being trapped by her own wires. The flames engulfed her body, raising blisters and scorching skin wherever they decided to touch. Frankie's death was agonizing, and nobody deserved that. But it left sixteen tributes.

Lavinia was murdered by Jet when she tried to seduce him. Terkast shook his head. She should have just stayed with Joss, because that Career was head over heel for the whore. Fifteen tributes lingered.

The camera focused on Arrett, who was escaping the fire in District Eleven. The trees had provided too much cover for him, and made it easy for him to pick off tributes. It wouldn't be a good advantage at all. The owl screeched at him in the voices of the different tributes, which must've been unnerving.

Fortunately, both Arrett and Indas escaped the fire that consumed The Orchard. The screen quickly switched to Jet's death later in the night. He was voted off, and had tried escaping using his silver tongue. The mutts weren't having any of that, and ripped him apart just the same. Ten tributes had died, leaving fourteen.

Livianna killed herself, eating a poisoned creature. It wasn't a good death, but another top contender was dead. Thirteen left.

Caddis' death was much more interesting, as she lead the mutts on a worthwhile chase. Her fatal mistake came when the District Four female decided to take to the water. She was good at swimming, but the mutts far surpassed her. There were only twelve living tributes in the arena now.

Marielle was electrocuted on the floor of the Estate, her body filled with tons of current. Her dying throws hadn't lasted very long, and he cannon boomed rather quickly. Eleven tributes' hearts still beat.

Voting again. This time, Sheave killed himself. Terkast remembered that day, hoping that Sheave had written out Cree's name. That way, both of them would be killed. However, by writing Joss, Sheave sealed his fate. There were now only ten tributes left.

Indas ran Asher down, taking extreme pleasure from the boy's frightened look. In an act of pure brutality, Indas hung Asher from a tree in District Seven. The boy swung a few times before his cannon boomed, leaving nine tributes.

Arrett had moved onto the Mountain, happy with his vantage point. From here, he could watch Virgo being consumed by fire. She screeched high and mournful, but nobody wanted to hear it. The Final Eight.

In quick succession, both Indas and Linea were killed. Indas was eaten up by poison and the mutts in District Twelve. Linea was left alone to struggle in the sea, and killed by Joss. Six tributes were left to fight it out.

On screen, Arrett was almost buried in a mudslide. Terkast heard gasps all around him, and knew that the Capitolites had felt the boy was dead. The rubble was silent, giving away no hints. Minutes passed, watching the rubble. The light shifted, and Terkast knew that the video had switched times. When Arrett's hand erupted from the debris, everyone in the theater cheered. Their Victor had lived.

Wolf herded Corson into his carefully made trap, dropping the younger boy with a knife to the forehead. It was a gruesome death, but left five tributes.

Cree and Joss fought in the sands of District Four, their cries echoing against the arena walls. Cree clearly had the upper hand, but Joss was aided by a shot of adrenaline. With a snarl, Cree embedded her tomahawk into Joss' neck, leaving the Final Four.

The screen focused on Arrett, who had a nocked bow waiting as he appraised Tristan. The boy was silent as he watched his prey, and then let it loose. The arrow pierced Tristan's eye, and immediately elicited a cannon. From this viewpoint, the shot had taken a while, and wasn't just a quick kill. It showed that Arrett wasn't the cute tribute that should be pitied. He was angry and a murderer. Someone who could survive. Three more tributes.

Wolf was herded towards Cree by the mutts in District One. It was a short fight, leaving Cree alone to face Arrett.

They were brought together by the fire, the underdog and the Alpha Female together. The screen showed every move of their perilous fight, even Arrett ripping Cree's ear off. But, ultimately, Arrett was the Victor. He stabbed Cree ferociously with his arrowhead, and the screen went dark.

"Arrett, Arrett," Thorfinn said as soon as the spotlight was on him again. "Tell me, how was your Games? How did you feel being the youngest?"

Arrett's face tightened and he gripped something in his hand. "It was…" he began, thinking of the right word. "Stressful. I didn't know if I could make it out, and my life was threatened every moment. I thought I was dying when the avalanche-thing happened. Scariest moment in the arena, actually."

The crowd laughed at his statement, although Terkast could tell that Arrett had meant it in all his being. "I knew, at the end, that if I wanted to survive I'd have to kill. So I did."

Thorfinn patted the boy on his shoulder with a large grin. "How do you think your family's going to react to your winning?"

Arrett smiled lightly, no doubt thinking about his sister. "They'll be happy. Rose especially. I told her I'd try to win, and she gave me my lucky token: a goat horn. I think it helped me a lot. I'll live with her in the Victor's Village and help my mom out on the farm. Maybe it'd be like old times."

The crowd sighed at his statement. To them, he was just 'too cute!' They didn't see the broken, angry boy that laid underneath. And when he was finally old enough, he would have quite a lot of _fun_ in the Capitol. People would love to run their fingers through his ginger hair or stare lovingly into his bright green eyes.

Thorfinn asked a few more quick questions, but none were noteworthy. It was easy to see the boy just wanted to be left alone. He was tired and needed some quietness. Terkast looked around, shocked that he had missed the President leaving.

President Welch stood on stage, a crown held tightly in his grasp. "For your valiance, bravery and cunning in these Games, I present to you a memento of the 725th Games," the President said. A circular medallion hung from his hands. "There is a piece of every District in this, Arrett. Wear it well."

The influential man hung the medallion from the boy's neck, and then placed the crown on top of his head. Arrett's nervous face broke into a slight smile, and the crowd erupted into cheers of joy. They liked their Victor, the underdog of the Games. He would suit them well.

Arrett was hustled off stage, and people began to leave. Terkast stood up, cracking his back in a few places as he did so. "Come on, Maylin," he jovially said, "I have a surprise for you."

**A/N: I'm extremely sorry if the Games recap was boring! But now it's over! And we have one more chapter before **_**Control**_** is over. Speaking of, I'd like to take up the burden of a Submit Your Own. If anyone's interested, just think up a good tribute and be on the lookout for another story of mine. I'm only going to accept a few tributes to make it easier on me, because the bloodbaths would be annoying. Tell anyone you think'd be interested! Anywho, I hope you enjoyed it! Please review?**


	30. Chapter 30

The marketplace was crowded with people, all grimy and sweaty after their hard day of work. Terkast nimbly dodged through the bent-backed farmers and the unruly children. School was out for the day due to the Victory Tour, making the normally decently filled space unbearable.

Terkast could hear cows lowing all around him as they were roughly pulled along. All those that passed carried a healthy layer of fat that came from the extra food the Victor won. He pushed his light brown hair away from his face, still unused to the color. Taking a modest District home was a nice retirement, but he had lost some of the perks of being a Capitolite.

A few people waved to Terkast as he passed through the market, smiling as they saw the commonplace visitor. He stopped at a vendor, surveying the fruits and vegetables laid out on a ripped black cloth.

"Everything is cheaper today, Mr. Stryfe," the cheery salesman said, gesturing wildly at the selection. "Not every day we get to welcome a Victor home!"

Terkast grabbed a peach, figuring that the sweet juiciness would be perfect companion to the satisfaction of welcoming a tribute back from the presumed dead. He handed over the money, a bit more than he should have, and walked away before the vendor could realize what he did.

He bit into the fruit, sucking in his pale pink lips at the sudden tartness. The sensation faded, leaving Terkast with a enjoyable flavor. He wandered around a bit, taking in the sights. Even though he had lived here for a while, the complexity of this simple life still surprised him. Trade went on as normal, with animals being switched from person to person. Money passed from hand to hand quickly, making Terkast's head spin. Money was so important to these people, and they adapted to the exchange very well. Terkast considered himself adept at handling money, but these people far surpassed him.

The train station loomed closer, the dull flooring filled with life. There was no place to move, and Terkast doubted he could get any closer. He shrugged, content with his view from further back. Although there were some heads that slightly obscured his vision, he was taller than most of the males in this flock of people. Their hard labor stooped their shoulders and made them weary at a young age.

A small hand slipped into Terkast's, and he looked down with surprise. Soft gray eyes stared back into his, the tiny face punctuated with a large smile.

"Hi, Uncah Nils!" the young girl screeched, her tiny hand squeezing his finger not uncomfortably. A young woman pushed her way through the crowd, looking relieved when she spotted the pair.

The woman broke out into a smile, gently kissing the older man on the cheek. Her gray eyes, which so matched her daughter's, brought back memories of Terkast's time in the Capitol. They weren't as dull as they were in those darker times and shone with a fiery life. The girl parted from Terkast's hand, waving at her mother and grunting to be picked up.

"I swear she can pick you out in a crowd of your clones," the woman jested, picking up her daughter and resting her firmly on her left hip. "But that's because Dabiah loves spending time with her Uncle Nils, isn't that right?" Maylin rubbed her nose against her daughter's, making the girl giggle. The younger woman turned to the retired Gamemaker, her lips parted slightly. "Do you know when the train is coming in?" she asked quietly.

Terkast looked at the battered watch that he traded a few of his chickens for a few years back. "If it's on time," he mused, "it should be here within a few minutes."

The pair waited in silence within the constantly moving crowd. Dabiah's head snapped this way and that, looking at the unusual amount of people near the train station. She giggled and pointed at a stray dog that scampered from person to person begging for food.

"Put me down, put me down!" Dabiah whined, but her small voice was drowned out by the strong whistle of the incoming train. The crowd became louder to be heard over the locomotive, their excitement reaching new heights. They had to welcome their Victor home again with flying colors, because this was the person that provided them with all of their food.

The train stopped with a screech, and stood patiently at the station. The doors opened with a whoosh, the air from within moving the steam outward. A tall ginger man stepped forward, his sinewy arms reaching out of the door with graceful ease. He stepped calmly out of the train and propped himself up against the railings. A collective female scream went through the crowd, deafening the men within the crowd. Dabiah screamed as well, although she did not know why everyone was screaming.

"Arrett!" a girl squealed as she tried to push herself to the front of the crowd. She failed due to the large volume of people in front of her.

The eighteen-year-old man waved his hand, looking out into the crowd with a large smile on his face. "I know, I know," he chuckled, "I'm gorgeous. But I'm not the important one here! Let me introduce you to the victor of the 731st Hunger Games, Elizabeth Pickett!"

The crowd went wild, ringing cowbells and screaming their support. The fifteen-year-old girl stepped from the train shyly, her brown hair done in two very neat pigtails that laid down her shoulders. People screamed for her, and her pale face reddened considerably.

Terkast nodded appreciatively at the girl. She had survived using her superb whip skill. It was a normal skill that many District Ten people possessed and thrived using. Although she had had a few close calls, her speed and survival instinct allowed her to survive until the end.

Arrett gestured towards Eliza, as she preferred to be called, and turned away. As he turned, Terkast glimpsed the happy expression melt off his face to be replaced with a deadly scowl. A buxom golden lady with bright green eyes signaled for the young man, and he went into her welcoming arms almost reluctantly. She nearly buried him within her golden furs and hurried them off to a building nearby.

"She did well," Terkast whispered to Maylin. She nodded slowly, her eyes fixated on the young girl in front of them. She smiled shyly, her eyes usually downcast. Still, the crowd celebrated. Eliza would be off to a long, prosperous life within the Victor's Village with her remaining family. Eventually, like Arrett, she would be recruited into entertaining the Capitol.

Dabiah whimpered as Arrett was rushed off by Leona. "Why the red-man go 'way, Momma?" she asked, pressing her face deeply into Maylin's shoulder. "I wan' him back!"

"Don't we all!" an elder woman cried, raising her hands towards the heavens. "Thank God we got two young Victors to mentor our babies. Maybe more will survive. Lord knows the whole District is prospering from the extra food."

Nodding to the lady, Terkast grasped Maylin's hands and drew her away from the raucous crowd. The marketplace was deserted, which was almost as strange as it filled to the brim. The child began to whine animatedly, upset that she was missing out on the fun that the crowd was having. The trio started down a path shouldered by wildflowers, not talking at all.

"It's been a while since I thought of the Capitol," Maylin admitted quietly. She placed Dabiah on the ground to chase after butterflies, leaving the adults to their conversation. "It seems so long ago, and… and I'm really happy with my life now. Harrison and I have a farm to run, and you do too. Plus Dabiah keeps me busy. I couldn't imagine… ten years ago -" Maylin's voice broke, tears brimming in her eyes.

Terkast placed a hand on her shoulder, and Maylin smiled up at him. She took a shuddering breath, and continued. "Ten years ago, I thought I was nothing but a mute slave. Now… I have a life! I have a voice!"

She stopped at the fork in the road, looking the retired Gamemaker dead in the eye. "And I have a daughter. All thanks to you."

Silence stood between the pair, interrupted only by the buzz of insects and the infrequent shrieks of pleasure from Dabiah. Maylin stood expectantly, but Terkast did nothing. He held her hands gently, taking in the bright eyes and soft brown hair. It was easy to see how the rich Harrison McDowly fell in love with the girl. Terkast himself had done so when they spent so much time together. However, it was not a romantic love but one of respect and caring. Like a father-daughter relationship. It made Terkast so happy that Maylin had wanted to continue to see him and even entrusted him with her daughter.

He pulled her into a hug, smelling the expensive fragrance in her hair. "No," he whispered, "thank you."

A sob caught in Maylin's chest, but she shoved it down effectively. She pulled away and looked for her daughter. "I've got to go now," she whispered, unable to speak louder for fear she would start crying again. "Dabiah?" she called, the tears clearly heard within her voice.

The young girl stopped her playing and came obediently to her mother, a grin plastered all over her young face. "By Uncah Nils!" she sang as Maylin pulled her down the left path. Her chubby hand waved happily in the air, spraying dirt particles all over.

Terkast smiled at his so-called niece, then continued down the path to the right. He placed his hands in his pockets, humming a familiar tune that had haunted him since his last Games. Many farms passed on his trip home, but Terkast ignored them all. He was used to the sights and smells of the neighboring farms and ranches.

The familiar silo greeted Terkast as he opened the shiny gate that marked his farm. A bright yellow dog, one of Trunks and Sayuh's offspring, greeted him with a flurry of barks. Terkast furiously ruffled the animal's head, making the fluffy tail wag even faster.

A few cows raised their heads as their master approached, but quickly went back to eating the sweet grass. Opening his mailbox, Terkast observed the two forlorn letters. One was a letter from Kornicu and the other was his monthly check. Every time someone aired or bought one of the Games he was in charge of, Terkast got compensation. It definitely made his life so much simpler.

Terkast opened the simple door to his modest farm house. Inside, it was lavishly decorated, for he needed something other than more animals to spend his money on. He opened up the refrigerator and pulled out a container of milk, which he placed on the table. Taking the letter opener from a nearby drawer, Terkast neatly sliced open his brother's letter and sat down in one of the gilt chairs.

He poured the creamy milk into a golden chalice intended for kings and sipped delicately as he read. Kornicu hinted at raising big cats again. Perhaps within the next year he would take up the time consuming mantle. Until then, he would just continue life like normal.

**A/N: The thrilling conclusion! I'm so sorry for the wait, but I hope this chapter made up for it. Thank you so much for sticking with me, I really appreciate it. And I hope you enjoyed this chapter, because I really enjoyed writing this happy ending. **


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